LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALlFORfilA 
RIVERSIDE  , 


Lord  Dundreary 


Memoir  of  E.  A.  Sothern 


E.  A.  SOTHERN 

AS 

LORD  DUNDREARY 


ILLUSTRATED        EDITION 


MR.    E.    A.    SOTHERN. 


LORD  DUNDREARY 


A   Memoir  of 


Edward    Askew    Sothern 


T.  Edgar  Pemberton 


"WitH  a  Srief  SKetcK  of  tKe  Career  of 

£.  H.  Sothern 


Xlbe  Tknicfterbocher  press 

"new  Korh 


1>y 


id  or 


Sbe  Vtnicitecbocisetr  press,  "new  JOocl; 


CONTENTS 


The  Career  of  E.  H,  Sothern  . 
sothern  on  the  stage 
Sothern  off  the  Stage 
Sothern  in  the  Hunting-Field  . 
Sothern  in  High  Spirits    . 

Conclusion 

Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition 


PAGE 

T 


153 
173 
262 


THE  CAREER  OF  E.  H.   80THERN 

By   Jackson   D.   Haaq 

Edward  Hugh  Sothern  was  born  in  New 
Orleans  December  6,  1859,  educated  in  Eng- 
land, and  studied  to  be  an  artist  until  his 
eighteenth  year,  when  he  made  his  first  stage 
appearance.  His  father,  Edward  A.  Sothern, 
remembered  through  his  embodiments  of  Lord 
Dundreary,  David  Garrick,  and  The  Crushed 
Tragedian,  was  an  amateur  artist  of  great  tal- 
ent, and  was  desirous  of  his  son  becoming  a 
painter.  With  this  end  in  view,  the  younger 
Sothern  passed  through  an  elaborate  art  course 
in  England,  after  gaining  his  regular  schooling 
in  Warwickshire  and  the  Marylebone  grammar 
school,  London,  and  finally  the  Heatherly 
preparatory  school.  Elaborate  plans  were 
formed  for  Mr.  Sothern  to  be  an  artist.  He 
commenced  the  study  of  drawing  and  painting 
under  one  of  the  most  famous  masters  in  Lon- 
don, and  made  a  tour  through  the  art  centres 
of  Europe,  where  he  spent  some  time  in  study- 
ing the  natural  colour  of  the  scenery  and  en- 
vironment   of    Spain.     Mr.    Sothern    now   has 


vi      The  Career  of  E.   H.   Sothern 

many  brilliant  paintings  as  the  result  of  these 
early  years  of  study  of  the  limner's  art. 

Mr.  Sothern  entered  a  competition  at  the 
Royal  Academy  of  London  for  a  scholarship, 
a  yearly  custom  with  that  institution  with 
young  artists  who  win  their  recognition 
through  the  drawings  or  paintings  they  may 
submit.  Mr.  Sothern's  subject  was  a  drawing 
of  the  powerful  principal  figure  of  the  Laocoon 
group.  His  work  was  ignored,  and  the  young 
man  for  the  first  and  only  time  of  his  life  was 
discouraged.  He  decided  to  abandon  the  art 
of  painting  and  enter  that  of  the  drama, 
greatly  against  his  father's  desires. 

It  was  in  his  father's  own  company,  how- 
ever, that  the  young  man  made  his  first  ap- 
pearance on  any  stage,  in  Abbey's  Park 
Theatre,  New  York,  in  September,  1879.  He 
assumed  the  name  of  E.  Dee,  an  abbreviation 
of  his  own  name,  Edward,  and  the  play  was 
a  farce  called  "  Brother  Sam,"  he  playing  a 
cabman.  After  a  few  years  of  apprenticeship 
Sothern  entered  other  dramatic  organisations, 
one  of  these  being  John  McCullough's,  at  the 
time  he  was  at  the  height  of  his  glory.  Later 
he  went  to  London  and  appeared  first  in  the 
Royalty  Theatre  in  October,  1881,  as  Mr. 
Sharpe  in  "  False  Colours."  He  appeared  in 
the  Criterion  Theatre  the  next  spring,  suc- 
ceeding his  brother,  the  late  Lytton  Sothern, 


The  Career  of  E.  H.  Sothern       vii 

in  "  Fourteen  Days."  He  also  played  engage- 
ments in  the  Strand,  Surrey,  and  Standard 
Theatres  and  toured  the  provinces.  He  re- 
turned to  America  in  1883,  again  joining  Mc- 
Cullough.  In  1884  he  appeared  in  "  Called 
Back  "  and  other  plays,  and  in  1884  was  with 
Helen  Barry  and  others  at  various  theatres. 
In  1885-6  he  supported  Helen  Dauvray  in  the 
Union  Square  Theatre  and  then  joined  Daniel 
Frohman's  Lyceum  Company  as  leading  man, 
remaining  there  until  1898. 

During  the  early  years  Mr.  Sothern  wrote 
a  play  called  "  Crushed,  or  Whose  Are  They?  " 
which  he  produced  himself  in  the  Star  Theatre, 
New  York,  acting  as  author,  manager,  and 
leading  actor  with  Joseph  Haworth  and  other 
players  in  the  cast.  The  play  was  afterward 
produced  by  Harrison  and  Gourlay,  and  also 
praised  by  Stuart  Robson,  under  the  name  of 
"Domestic  Earthquakes."  In  1883  Sothern 
wrote  another  play  called  "  A  Lock  of  Hair," 
which  was  produced  in  the  English  provinces 
with  his  brother,  Lytton.  One  of  his  latest 
efforts  as  dramatist,  '*  The  Light  That  Lies  in 
Woman's  Eyes,"  was  produced  by  Virginia 
Harned  in  1903. 

In  the  year  1885,  Daniel  Frohman,  then  a 
young  manager  who  had  severed  his  connec- 
tion with  the  Mallory  Brothers  of  the  Madison 
Square  Theatre,  became  manager  of  the  Ly- 


viii       The  Career  of  E.  H.  Sothern 

ceum  Theatre.  The  venture  was  not  proving 
successful  until  one  day  Mr.  Sothern,  then 
appearing  with  Helen  Dauvray  in  "  One  of 
Our  Girls,"  brought  to  Frohman  a  play  that 
had  been  left  him  by  his  father,  and  suggested 
it  as  a  good  vehicle  for  the  stock  company.  It 
was  found  that  the  play  contained  an  admir- 
able part  suited  to  Sothern  himself,  and  simply 
to  supply  an  entertainment  and  to  keep  the 
theatre  open  for  a  fortnight  until  summer  the 
play  was  produced,  Mr.  Sothern  featured  as 
star,  although  still  under  contract  to  Helen 
Dauvray.  The  play  was  "  The  Highest  Bid- 
der," originally  called  "  Trade."  It  was  pro- 
duced in  May,  1887. 

An  interesting  story  is  told  of  this  period. 
The  play  went  so  well  that  the  manager  tried 
to  secure  for  the  actor  a  release  from  his  road 
tour  from  Miss  Dauvray  for  the  next  season, 
but  she  demanded  $1000.  This  Mr.  Frohman 
would  not  pay,  but  Mr.  Sothern  paid  it  him- 
self. Thus  he  began  the  next  season  in  the 
Lyceum  Theatre,  New  York,  under  the  manage- 
ment of  Mr.  Frohman,  supported  by  Rowland 
Buckstone,  who  has  been  with  him  ever  since. 

A  trunk  of  plays  was  turned  over  to 
Messrs.  Belasco  and  De  Mille,  and  ''  Lord 
Ohuraley  "  was  the  first  result.  In  this  play 
Mr.  Sothern  began  to  show  his  skill  as  a  stage 
manager  and  a  shaper  of  stage  pictures.    He 


The  Career  of  E.  H.  Sothern        ix 

took  the  stage  management  into  his  own  hands 
and  made  a  success  of  the  leading  part  as  well. 
In  this  play  Margaret  Anglin  and  Maude 
Adams  made  their  first  New  York  appearances. 

A  short  tabulary  of  the  original  plays  pro- 
duced from  that  date  to  this  is  of  interest: 

Season  1886-87,  "The  Highest  Bidder," 
"The  Great  Pink  Pearl,"  "Edith's  Burglar." 

Season  1888-89,  "Lord  Chumley." 

Season  1890-91,  "  Maister  of  Woodbarrow," 
"  I  Love,"  a  monologue,  by  himself. 

Season   1891-92,   "The   Dancing   Girl." 

Season  1892-93,  "Captain  Lettarblair." 

Season  1893-94,  "  Sheridan,"  "  The  Uisreput 
able  Mr.  Reagan,"  "  The  Victoria  Cross." 

Season  1894-95,  "The  Way  to  Win  a 
Woman." 

Season  1895-96,  "The  Prisoner  of  Zenda." 

Season  1896-97,  "  An  Enemy  to  the  King." 

Season  1897-98,  "'Change  Alley,"  "The 
Adventure  of  Lady  Ursula,"  and  "  The  Lady 
of  Lyons." 

Season  1898-99,  "A  Colonial  Girl,"  and 
"  The  King's  Musketeer." 

Season  1899-1900,  "  The  Song  of  the  Sword," 
"The  Sunken  Bell,"  "Drifting  Apart." 

Season  1900-'01,  "  Hamlet." 

Season  1901-'02,  "Richard  Lovelace"  and 
"  If  I  Were  King." 

Season  1903,  "  If  I  Were  King,"  "  The  Proud 


X  The  Career  of  E.  H.  Sothern 

Prince,"  "  Markheim,"  a  one-act  play  by 
himself. 

Season  1904-'05,  with  Julia  Marlowe, 
"  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  "  Much  Ado  About  No- 
thing," "Hamlet." 

Season  1905-'06,  "Taming  of  the  Shrew," 
"  The  Merchant  of  Venice,"  "  Twelfth  Night." 

Season  1906-'07,  "Jeanne  D'Arc,"  "John 
the  Baptist." 

Season  1907-'08,  "The  Fool  Hath  Said," 
"  Lord  Dundreary,"  "  Don  Quixote,"  etc 

During  all  this  time  he  has,  as  he  is  doing 
this  year,  made  revivals  of  his  tried  suooesses. 


INTRODUCTION 

More  than  eight  years  have  elapsed  since 
Edward  Askew  Sothern,  one  of  the  most  ori- 
ginal and  popular  of  modern  comedians, 
passed  away,  yet,  beyond  some  appreciative 
mention  of  him  in  recent  volumes  of  interest- 
ing literary  and  theatrical  reminiscences,  no 
life  of  him  has  appeared.  Long  have  I  felt 
that  there  should  exist  some  record  of  his  re- 
markable stage  career,  and  of  the  place  that 
he  held  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  knew,  un- 
derstood, and  loved  him.  Finding  that  two 
short  articles  from  my  pen  concerning  him 
that  appeared  in  the  pages  of  The  Theatre 
magazine  attracted  some  attention,  and  sub- 
sequently having  been  fortunate  enough  to 
obtain  the  help  of  the  surviving  members  of 
his  family  and  near  friends  (who  gave  me 
considerable  material,  for  which  I  here  desire 
to  thank  them),  I  resolved  to  attempt  a  bio- 
graphy and  tell  the  story  of  his  experiences  as 
an  actor. 

I  knew  him  intimately — well  enough  to  ap- 
preciate his  merits,  and  to  understand  his 
faults — and  I  found  in  him,  as  many  others 


xii  Introduction 

did,  the  most  tender,  considerate,  vigilant, 
and  warm-hearted  of  friends.  If  this  work 
does  a  tardy  justice  to  one  who  was  the  bril- 
liant star  (in  his  case  I  might  say,  comet)  of 
many  seasons,  my  labour  will  be  amply  repaid. 
T.  EDGAR  PEMBERTON. 
June  nth,  1889. 

Note. — The  First  Edition  of  this  memoir  was  pub- 
lished in  England  in  1890. 


A  Memoir  of 
Edward  Askew  Sothern 


CHAPTER  I 

sothern  on  the  stage 

"  Sir, 

"  The  press  of  business  previous  to  the  clos- 
ing of  our  season  has  prevented  my  answering 
your  note  earlier,  and  I  now  write  to  assure 
you  that  I  witnessed  your  performance  at 
Weymouth  with  much  pleasure, 

"  Our  company  for  next  season  is  complete, 
and  from  my  connection  with  Mr.  Keeley,  I 
am  not  quite  my  own  master ;  but  as  I  shall  be 
alone  in  management  next  September  I  shall 
be  happy  to  hear  from  you  about  Easter-time, 
when  I  will  enter  into  communication  with 
you  respecting  an  engagement  at  my  theatre. 
In  the  meantime  I  hope  you  will  keep  yourself 
in  constant  practice  without  which  natural 
talent  is  of  little  avail.     I  thought  your  act- 


2  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

ing  in  '  Used  Up '  very  good  indeed,  but  in 
Claude  Mclnotte  it  suggested  itself  to  me  that 
you  occasionally  '  preached '  too  much,  instead 
of  giving  vent  to  the  impulse  of  the  character. 
In  the  third  act,  when  you  brought  Pauline 
to  your  mother's  cottage,  you  were  scarcely 
subdued  enough  in  your  action.  The  head 
erect,  with  eye  to  eye,  bespoke  too  much  on 
your  part  the  injured  man,  rather  than  one 
who  had  deeply  wronged  another.  Your  en- 
trance in  the  first  act  should  have  been,  I 
think,  more  excited  and  rapid.  The  character 
of  the  young  Frenchman  should  at  once  be  de- 
velof)ed  to  his  audience  by  an  exhibition  of 
that  enthusiasm  consequent  on  his  village 
victory,  which  afterwards  wins  for  him  the 
soldier's  laurels  on  the  field  of  battle, 

"  You  will,  I  am  sure,  excuse  my  pointing 
out  to  you  what  struck  me  as  wrong  in  your 
conception,  I  would  not  do  so,  but  that  I 
think  you  are  in  possession  of  talents  that 
may  one  day  work  their  way  in  London,  pro- 
vided they  are  properly  cultivated.  Your 
faults  generally  were  those  of  a  novice,  which 
practice  will  conquer, 

"  Pray  accept  my  best  wishes  for  your  suc- 
cess, and,  hoping  to  hear  from  you  at  the  time 
I  have  stated,  believe  me, 

"  Yours  truly, 

"  Charles  Kban." 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  3 

In  October,  1851,  in  this  kindly  yet  critical 
fashion,  wTote  the  foremost  actor  of  his  day 
to  a  young  stage  beginner  destined  to  secure 
a  fame  and  popularity  of  which  the  old-day 
players  had  little  dreamt.  It  was  Edward 
Askew  Sothern  who,  nervously  enough,  no 
doubt,  had  played  on  the  boards  of  the  old- 
fashioned  Weymouth  Theatre  Sir  Charles 
Coldstream  and  Claude  Melnotte,  under  the 
very  eye  of  the  great  Charles  Kean;  and  it 
was  Edward  Askew  Sothern  who,  ten  years 
later  on,  revolutionised  the  theatrical  world 
of  London. 

Prior  to  the  Weymouth  performance  the 
young  actor  had  had  some  experience  both  as 
an  amateur  and  a  professional.  He  was  born 
in  Liverpool,  on  April  1,  1826  {^^  Dundreary 
and  his  Brother  Sam  are  naturally  April 
fools,"  he  was  wont  in  after  life  to  say),  and 
had  been  intended  by  his  father  for  the 
Church  or  for  the  Bar;  but  though  for 
either  calling  every  facility  was  offered  him, 
he  would  take  to  neither,  and,  the  theatrical 
instinct  being  strong  within  him,  he,  from  a 
very  early  age,  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would 
be  an  actor.  The  elder  Sothern,  a  wealthy 
merchant,  colliery  proprietor,  and  ship-owner, 
had  the  strong  objection  characteristic  of  his 
day  to  all  things  connected  with  the  stage, 
allowing  his  children  to  "  go  to  the  play  "  but 


4  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

once  in  the  course  of  the  year,  and  disliked 
the  idea  of  his  son  taking  part  in  private 
theatricals.  In  spite,  however,  of  parental  ad- 
vice and  admonition  (you  might  as  well  have 
advised  a  duckling  not  to  take  to  water)  the 
boy  contrived  to  gratify  his  inclinations. 
While  still  at  school  he  managed  to  pay  sur- 
reptitious Saturday  night  visits  to  a  penny 
theatre  hard  by  his  home.  His  soul  was  fired 
by  the  blood-curdling  melodramas  that  he  saw 
there,  and  the  glorious  and  never-to-be-forgot- 
ten experience  of  having  been  permitted  to 
cross  the  stage  of  a  real  theatre  during  a 
"  rally "  in  the  clown's  scenes  that  succeed 
pantomime  (they  were  in  those  days  the  great 
feature  in  pantomime).  He  gave  on  one  of 
his  half-holidays,  assisted  by  his  schoolfellows, 
a  matinee,  at  which,  in  the  two  or  three  farces 
that  were  produced,  he  played  all  the  comic 
parts,  and,  between  each  interval,  sang  a 
song.  A  little  later  on,  having  declined  to 
enter  upon  a  clerical,  legal,  or  even  medical 
career — which  had  also  been  offered  to  him, — 
and  while  he  was  making  futile  efforts  to  ac- 
custom himself  to  the  routine  of  work  in  his 
father's  office,  he  joined  the  "  Sheridan  Ama- 
teur Dramatic  Society,"  where  real  actresses 
were  engaged,  and  the  pieces  were  performed 
with  some  degree  of  completeness.  Very 
speedily  he  became  the  "  leading  man  "  of  this 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  5 

local  histrionic  club,  and,  having  delighted 
himself  and  his  young  friends  in  such  light 
pieces  as  "  Othello  "  and  "  The  Gamester,"  he 
became  quite  certain  as  to  his  destiny  and 
calling.  For  an  amateur  to  obtain  a  hearing 
on  the  bona  fide  stage  was  in  those  days  a  far 
more  difficult  matter  than  it  is  now ;  but  chance 
favoured  Sothern,  for  in  the  spring  of  1849 
he  was  staying  with  wealthy  friends  at  St. 
Helier's,  Jersey,  and  the  Theatre  Royal  at  that 
little  town  was  under  the  temporary  manage- 
ment of  a  Mons.  Gilmer,  and  being  asked,  as 
at  that  time  was  the  custom,  for  their  patron- 
age, Sothern's  friends  suggested  to  the  mana- 
ger that  he  should  give  the  ambitious  amateur 
a  chance  on  the  regular  boards.  Mons.  Gil- 
mer, whose  one  aim  was  to  get  sufficiently 
good  houses  to  enable  him  to  leave  the  island, 
consented,  and,  being  a  man  of  much  theatrical 
experience,  put  Sothern  through  his  facings 
in  the  character  of  Claude  Melnotte,  in  which 
it  was  decided  that  his  first  appearance  should 
be  made.  Even  to-day  Mons.  Gilmer  does  not 
speak  in  very  enthusiastic  terms  of  his  pupil 
or  his  first  performance;  but  that  it  was  emi- 
nently satisfactory  to  'the  stage-struck  Sothern 
is  proved  by  the  fact  that  he  at  once  deter- 
mined to  burn  his  boats,  and  become  an  actor 
in  right-down  earnest.  Warned  by  his  tutor- 
manager  that  he  was  not  likely  to  endure  the 


6  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

drudgery  of  his  proposed  professional  career 
so  long  as  he  had  money  to  spend  and  to  live 
upon,    his    first   step   was   to   squander   every 
farthing   in   his   possession    (a   task  that   his 
ever   pleasure-loving  nature   made  an   exceed- 
ingly easy  one),  and  being  thus  by  his  own  act 
reduced    to    the    necessity    of    working,    he 
adopted  the  pseudonym  of  "  Douglas  Stuart," 
and  became  a  regular  member  of  the  St.  Hell- 
er's stock  company.     Here,  with  much  courage 
and  very  characteristic  perseverance,  he  played 
a  great   number  of  parts,   his   adopted  name 
continually  figuring  in  the  play-bills  in  com- 
edy,   melodrama,    and    farce.     The    name    of 
Stuart  he  retained  until,  following  the  advice 
of  Mr.   Lester  Wallack,  he  abandoned  it  for 
his  own.     This  was  not,  however,  until  he  had 
secured  something  like  a  recognised  position 
on  the  American  stage,  and  he  has  left  it  on 
record  that  one  of  his  reasons  (the  initial  one 
was,  of  course,  the  objection  taken  by  his  fam- 
ily to  his  sudden   plunge  into  the  theatrical 
world)  for  continuing  to  act  under  an  assumed 
name   was  that   he   hoped   his   friends   would 
never    know    anything    of    the    struggles    and 
privations   through    which,    during    the   early 
days  of  his  self-chosen  career,  he  had  to  pass. 
In  Jersey  he  no  doubt  did  a  great  deal  of 
rough,    useful    work.     Speaking    years    after- 
wards at  the  Theatre  Royal,  Birmingham,  at  a 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  7 

performance  given  for  the  benefit  of  his 
friend,  Mr.  J.  C.  Smith,  who,  in  1849,  was  also 
a  member  of  the  company  playing  at  the  St. 
Helier's  Theatre,  he  told  the  audience  how  he 
had  played  Hamlet  to  the  heneficiaii^e's  Ghost; 
but,  prior  to  this  great  opportunity,  there  were 
many  less  ambitious  appearances,  and  at  least 
one  in  Shakespeare's  immortal  play,  in  which 
he  was  cast  for  Laertes,  the  Ghost,  and  the 
Second  Actor. 

In  connection  with  this  undertaking  (in 
those  days  at  the  smaller  provincial  theatres 
by  no  means  an  uncommon  one)  an  amusing 
anecdote  has  been  handed  down.  To  assist 
poor  young  ''  Stuart,"  a  memorandum  was 
attached  to  the  wings  telling  him  when  to  make 
his  changes.  Some  practical  joker  took  this 
down,  and  the  consequence  was  that  the  Sec- 
ond Actor,  Laertes,  and  the  Ghost  were,  since 
the  nervous  performer  was  now  merely  rely- 
ing upon  his  memory,  continually  appearing 
on  the  stage  in  the  wrong  character.  "  Oh, 
the  agony  of  those  moments  and  of  that 
night ! "  groaned  Sothern,  as  he  recalled  the 
incident  in  after  years.  "  Fancy  the  Ghost 
going  on  to  act  as  Laertes  ! " 

From  Jersey  to  Weymouth  is  not  a  very 
far  cry,  and  this  brings  me  back  to  the  com- 
mencement of  my  chapter,  and  the  perform- 
ance  of   ''  The   Lady    of   Lyons "    and    "  Used 


8  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Up,"  at  which  Charles  Kean  was  present,  and 
concerning  which  he  wrote  so  encouragingly. 
Pending  the  time  when  he  was  to  write  to  the 
great  actor  and  manager  respecting  a  London 
appearance,  Sothern,  accepting  such  engage- 
ments as  came  in  his  way,  drifted  to  Wolver- 
hampton, and  while  there  an  event  occurred 
which  mapped  out  his  career. 

The  Mons.  Gilmer  of  the  Jersey  days,  who 
was  closely  connected  with  the  fortunes  of  the 
Theatre  Royal,  Birmingham,  was  about  to  take 
a  benefit  in  the  great  midland  town,  and,  hear- 
ing that  his  struggling  and  ambitious  young 
friend  was  in  the  neighbourhood,  good-nat- 
uredly offered  him  the  opportunity  of  appearing 
before  a  larger  and  more  critical  audience  than 
had  hitherto  come  in  his  way.  Sothern  jumped 
at  the  chance,  and  accordingly  appeared  on 
the  boards  of  the  old  Birmingham  Theatre  as 
Frank  Friskley,  in  the  well-known  farce  en- 
titled "  Boots  at  the  Swan."  The  excellence 
of  his  acting  at  once  caught  the  critical  eye  of 
Mr.  Simpson,  the  then  manager  of  the  theatre ; 
he  was  offered  an  engagement,  and  became  a 
member  of  the  company.  That  Sothern  at- 
tached great  importance  to  this  step  in  his 
professional  career  is  amply  proved  by  the 
fact  that  when,  some  eleven  years  later,  he 
made  his  first  appearance  as  Lord  Dundreary 
at  the  Haymarket,   he   caused  himself  to   be 


Sothern  on  the  Staee 


t> 


announced  as  "  formerly  of  the  Theatre  Royal, 
Birmingham."  '*  What  a  difference,"  I  often 
heard  him  say,  when  in  the  days  of  his  fame 
he  revisited  the  town,  "  between  the  time  when 
I  came  over  from  Wolverhampton  to  play 
Frank  FrisMey  on  these  boards,  and  right 
thankfully  accepted  an  engagement  at  thirty 
shillings  a  week,  and  now,  when  I  turn  money 
away  from  the  doors!  But  the  difference  is 
more  in  the  public  than  in  me.  I  was  probably 
as  good  an  actor  then  as  I  am  now.  Like 
many  other  men,  I  wanted  finding  out,  and 
I  must  confess  that  I  have  been  very  lucky." 
In  those  days  Mr.  Simpson  was  the  manager 
of  more  than  one  theatre,  and,  after  a  short 
but  satisfactory  engagement  in  Birmingham, 
Sothern  was  told  off  to  play  in  Liverpool ;  but, 
disliking  this  enforced  return  in  his  'prentice 
days  to  his  native  town,  he  gave  up  the  idea 
of  waiting  for  his  opportunity  with  Kean,  and 
accepted  an  offer  that  was  made  to  him  to  try 
his  fortune  in  America. 

At  the  National  Theatre,  Boston,  at  a  sal- 
ary of  twenty-five  dollars  a  week,  he  made  his 
first  American  appearance,  playing  Dr.  Pang- 
loss  in  "  The  Heir-at-Law,"  and  a  part  in  the 
farce  called  "  John  Dobbs."  The  selection  of 
the  comedy  proved  to  be  a  most  unfortunate 
one.  Sothern's  failure  as  Dr.  Pangloss  was 
complete,  and  so  mercilessly  and  unanimously 


lo  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

was  his  acting  cut  up  in  the  papers  that,  to 
use  his  own  words,  he  was  forthwith  "  dis- 
missed for  incapacity."  Somewhat  discour- 
aged, but  happily  not  disheartened,  by  this 
luckless  venture,  he  then  accepted  an  engage- 
ment, at  a  reduced  salary,  to  play  juvenile 
parts  at  the  Howard  Athenaeum  in  the  same 
city. 

Of  these  early  American  days  Mrs.  J.  R.  Vin- 
cent, a  veteran  actress  on  the  Boston  stage, 
and  Sothern's  lifelong  friend,  has  written* 
as  follows :  "  '  Douglas  Stuart '  was  tall,  wil- 
lowy, and  lithe,  with  a  clear,  red-and-white, 
English  complexion;  bright  blue  eyes;  wavy, 
brown  hair;  graceful  in  his  carriage,  and  well 
calculated  physically  to  conciliate  the  heart  of 
any  susceptible  woman.  He  lived  at  the  same 
house  with  me,  and  I  soon  found  that  he  had 
all  the  simplicity  and  buoyancy  of  a  child. 
He  was  not  rich — anything  but  that — but  in- 
variably charitable  and  generous  to  the  extent 
of  prodigality. 

"  The  opening  night  was  not  a  success.  You 
can  fancy  the  appearance  of  a  boy  on  the  stage 
I  should  say  he  was  three  or  four  and  twenty, 

*  In  a  pleasant  little  book  concerning  Sothern, 
entitled  Birds  of  a  Feather,  that  appeared  eleven 
years  ago  in  America.  His  own  carefully  marked 
and  corrected  copy  of  this  brief  record  has  been  en- 
trusted to  me. 


Sothern  on  the  Staee  ii 

but  behind  the  footlights  he  did  not  look  as 
if  he  were  more  than  sixteen.  He  had  a  singu- 
larly sweet  voice. 

" '  Douglas  Stuart's '  next  move  was  to  the 
Howard  Athenaeum.  I  remember  an  incident 
that  occurred  at  this  period  which  illustrates 
a  phase  of  his  character  to  which  I  have  just 
referred.  One  of  the  actors  (his  name  was 
Sneider),  a  quiet,  well-behaved,  inoffensive 
man,  who  was  very  poor,  was  suddenly  taken 
ill.  Stuart,  learning  this  fact,  went  to  the 
headquarters  of  Sneider,  where  he  found  the 
friendless,  penniless  fellow  more  dead  than 
alive,  in  a  miserable  back  attic,  and  became 
his  constant  nurse.  Apparently  he  was  in  the 
last  stage  of  consumption,  and  but  for  the 
care,  comfort,  and  attention  rendered  by  his 
new-found  friend  he  probably  would  have 
died.  I  have  seen  him  two  or  three  times 
within  a  few  years,  and  he  never  fails  to  speak 
in  the  most  enthusiastic  terms  of  the  kindness 
and  affection  shown  him  during  that  sickness. 

"  The  first  impression  produced  by  '  Douglas 
Stuart '  as  an  actor  was  not  a  favourable  one. 
The  truth  is  he  had  been  over-praised.  The 
manager  of  the  National  Theatre  had  an- 
nounced it  in  advance  that  he  was  going  to 
bring  to  America  '  the  greatest  actor  that  had 
ever  appeared  on  its  stage,'  and  thus  had 
aroused  the  expectations  of  the  people  to  such 


12  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

a  degree  that  they  were  naturally  disap- 
pointed; hence  his  failure.  Besides,  he  was 
not  old  enough  to  make  a  sensation.  He  could 
not  even  '  make-up '  properly,  although  his 
education  was  correct,  and  he  was  perfect  in 
whatever  part  he  undertook.  I  do  not  remem- 
ber the  different  pieces  that  he  played,  yet  I 
recall  the  fact  that  they  were  remarkably  well 
done  for  so  young  a  man.  But,  oh,  how  sen- 
sitive he  was! — especially  when  the  papers  cut 
him  up,  which  they  did  without  stint." 

At  the  Howard  Athenaeum  Sothern  did  bet- 
ter than  at  the  National  Theatre,  but,  feeling 
that  his  chances  of  experience  were  small,  he 
very  soon  went  to  New  York,  and  succeeded  in 
obtaining  an  engagement  with  Mr.  Barnum 
to  play  twice  daily  at  his  famous  Museum. 
Here  he  got  the  practice  that  he  so  much 
needed,  at  last  acquired  the  art  of  self-posses- 
sion, and  was  thus  able  to  study  his  audiences. 
His  next  step  was  an  engagement  at  Wash- 
ington, at  a  salary  of  forty  dollars  a  week,  and 
this  was  followed  by  successful  appearances  at 
Baltimore  and  other  cities.  Although  by  no 
means  regarded  as  a  star,  his  acting  must  in 
those  days  have  impressed  all  true  critics,  as 
the  following,  written  by  one  who  closely 
watched  his  progress,  will  show.  The  play 
was  Buckstone's  "  Flowers  of  the  Forest " : 

"  These  '  Flowers '  were  a  sort  of  gipsy  gang 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  13 

of  astouishiug  appropriating  powers,  and 
among  them  the  '  character '  is  the  '  Kinchin.' 
The  '  Kinchin,'  as  I  remember  him,  is  a 
swarthy,  lank  individual,  out  at  elbows  and 
knees,  ungainly  and  gaunt.  When  the  rest 
of  the  thieves  come  into  the  shanty,  and  bring 
out  the  various  fine  valuables  they  have  cap- 
tured, the  '  Kinchin  '  takes  a  bandana  handker- 
chief from  one  pocket,  something  equally  trivial 
from  every  pocket,  ending,  if  I  remember,  with 
a  wretched  chicken,  which  is  drawn  out  of 
his  breast  and  rushes  about  the  stage.  The 
gang  roar  with  laughter,  and  chaff  him  tre- 
mendously; but  can  I  ever  forget  the  look  of 
pathetic  grief  at  their  ingratitude  assumed  by 
the  '  Kinchin '  ?  Shall  I  ever  lose  one  tone 
of  the  injured  '  Kinchin's '  voice  when  after- 
wards, a  more  serious  mood  having  overtaken 
him,  he  said,  'Hevery  one 's  against  me.  A 
swell  General,  he  goes  hinto  a  henemmy's 
country,  and  kills  hevery  one  he  meets — and 
burns  their  willages — and  they  cover  him  with 
stars,  and  blows  a  trumpet  for  him.  Hi  just 
collar  a  hen  or  a  handkerchief — they  blows  no 
trumpet  for  me, — they  whips  me,  and  gives 
me  'ancuffs  to  carry.  It 's  shameful,  it  is.  It 
quite  'urts  my  feelings.' 

"  I  don't  think  I  should  have  hesitated  to 
prophesy  in  that  moment — it  must  have  been 
fifteen   years  ago — that   the   Mr.   St»iart  who 


14  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

played  the  part  of  '  Kinchin '  would  some  day 
be  a  much  more  famous  man  than  I  expected. 
And,  indeed,  he  has  become  famous,  for  I  see 
him  to-day  as  the  great  impersonator  of 
Dundreary." 

At  length  the  feet  of  the  wandering,  hard- 
working young  actor  touched  firm  ground,  and 
he  became  a  recognised  member  of  Mr.  Wal- 
lack's  company;  but  the  parts  allotted  him 
were  so  small,  and  his  chances  of  real  distinc- 
tion seemed  so  remote,  that  just  before  the 
long-expected  opportunity  came  he  had  almost 
made  up  his  mind  to  abandon  the  stage,  return 
to  England,  and  seek  some  other  employment. 
Sothern  was  the  hardest  of  workers,  and  al- 
though there  seemed  very  little  likelihood  of 
his  being  called  upon  to  play  them  he  con- 
stantly studied  (sitting  up  until  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  applying  himself  all  day 
when  there  was  no  rehearsal)  the  parts  un- 
dertaken by  Lester  Wallack.  Miss  Matilda 
Heron  had  been  engaged  to  play  Camille  in 
a  version  of  "  La  Dame  aux  Camelias,"  and 
three  days  before  the  production,  which  was 
regarded  with  considerable  apprehension,  he 
was  asked  if  he  could  study  the  long  and  im- 
portant part  of  Armand  Duval.  To  the  sur- 
prise of  the  management,  it  was  found  that  he 
was  already  "  up  "  in  it.  It  was  at  once  given 
to  him,  and  at  the  performance,  which  was  in 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  15 

every  way  a  pronounced  success,  he  received, 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  several  enthusias- 
tic "  calls,"  This  settled  matters  in  more  ways 
than  one,  and,  having  played  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Mr.  Wallack  for  about  four  years,  he 
left  him,  and  joined  the  company  of  Miss 
Laura  Keene,  then  acting  in  New  York  in  a 
theatre  which  bore  the  name  of  his  manageress. 

How  hard  he  worked  in  these  days,  and  how 
home-sick  he  often  felt,  will  be  gathered  from 
some  extracts  from  letters  that  he  wrote  at 
the  time  to  one  of  his  oldest  companions  and 
most  intimate  friends  in  England: 

"  The  remembrances  brought  up  by  your  few 
lines  on  the  old  place  took  me  many,  many 
years  back.  I  saw  myself,  as  you  so  well  de- 
scribed, standing  gazing  on  the  river,  and  a 
long,  struggling  tear  forced  its  way  down  a 
cheek  that  fate  has  done  naught  but  cuff  for 
years.  But,  God  be  praised,  there  are 
brighter  days  in  store,  and  I  am  as  much  the 
old  Ned  Sothern  in  heart  and  feeling  as  ever, 
though  grey  hairs  have  been  forced  through  the 
hotbed  of  my  weary  skull.  If  I  have  no  gen- 
ius, I  at  least  have  indisputable  perseverance." 

A  month  later  he  wrote: 

"  I  've  made  a  big  mark  in  New  York  this 
season.  My  time  is  as  sure  to  come,  if  I  live, 
as  there  is  a  sun  in  the  heavens." 

The  desire  to  return  to  and  act  in  his  own 


i6  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

country  was  so  strong  within  him  that,  hop- 
ing quickly  to  raise  the  wherewithal  for  the 
venture,  he  speculated  during  an  "  ofif  season  " 
as  a  manager,  and  wrote  almost  definitely 
about  an  appearance  in  Liverpool,  saying: 

"  I  send  you  my  list  of  crack  parts.  What 
is  your  opinion  of  them? 

*  School  for  Scandal ' : . .  Charles  Surface. 

'  Heir  at  Law ' Dr.  Pangloss. 

*  Old  Heads  and  Young  Hearts '  Lyttleton  Coke. 

'  She  Stoops  to  Conquer ' Young  Marlow. 

'The    Rivals' Bob    Acres. 

'  London   Assurance  ' Charles   Courtley. 

'  Much    Ado    About    Nothing ' Benedick. 

'  Bachelor   of   Arts  ' Harry   Jaspar. 

'Laugh    When    You    Can' Gossamer. 

'The    Marble    Heart' Raphael. 

'  Camille  ' Armand. 

'  The  Wife  ' St.  Pierre. 

'The   Lady   of   Lyons' Claude   Melnotte. 

'Used  Up,'  'Poor  Pillicoddy,'  'Twenty 
Minutes  with  a  Tiger,'  'The  Morning  Call,' 
'  Two  Can  Play  at  That  Game,'  '  Trying  it  On,' 
'  My  Aunt,'  and  '  Delicate  Ground.' 

"  Have  '  The  Marble  Heart '  and  '  Camille ' 
been  much  played  in  Liverpool?  My  idea 
would  be  to  have  the  Royal  at  so  much  a  week, 
and  work  matters  in  my  own  way." 

Fate  willed  that  this  scheme  should  only 
exist  on  paper.    The  management  venture  was 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  17 

a  failure,  and  poor  Sothern  was  compelled  to 
write — 

"  I  've  had  an  awful  season,  .  .  .  and  this 
time  I  've  had  a  sickener." 

Of  his  experiences  in  these  early  days  Soth- 
ern, with  his  keen  sense  of  humour,  had,  of 
course,  in  after  life,  many  amusing  stories  to 
tell,  of  which  the  following  is  an  example: 
An  actor  was  playing  the  part  of  a  prisoner  in 
a  dungeon,  and,  in  order  to  make  his  escape, 
had  concealed  in  his  dress  a  file  about  eighteen 
inches  long.  He  had  filed  off  his  handcuffs 
and  shackles,  and  through  his  prison  bars,  and 
had  leapt  on  to  the  stage,  when  the  king's 
carbineers  made  their  appearance,  and  pointed 
their  muskets  at  him,  the  business  of  the  piece 
being  that  he  was  to  be  shot  dead  in  full  view 
of  the  audience.  The  word  "  Fire ! "  was 
given,  and  followed  by  half  a  dozen  feeble  and 
harmless  "  clicks,"  the  property  man  having 
forgotten  to  "  load "  the  guns.  Here  was  a 
dilemma!  Without  the  death  of  the  escaped 
prisoner  the  piece  could  not  come  to  an  end, 
and  how  was  the  unfortunate  actor  to  commit 
the  happy  despatch?  Quick  as  lightning  an 
idea,  which  surely  proved  that  he  had  real 
dramatic  genius,  came  into  his  mind.  With 
a  quick  movement  he  thrust  the  ponderous 
file  in  the  direction  of  his  throat,  at  the  same 
instant  performing  a  kind  of  conjuring  trick, 


1 8  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

which  caused  it  to  disappear,  and  then  melo- 
dramatically exclaimed,  "  My  God !  I  have 
swallowed  the  file ! "  He  then  came  down  to 
the  footlights,  and,  to  the  entire  satisfaction 
of  the  audience,  expired  in  great  agony. 

Another  anecdote,  in  which  the  notorious 
blunders  of  stage  firearms  had  once  more  a 
part,  he  told  of  himself.  He  was  playing  with 
one  of  the  famous  tragedians  of  his  day  in 
that  lugubrious  but  then  popular  drama,  en- 
titled, "  Pauline ;  or,  A  Night  of  Terror,"  in 
which,  it  may  be  remembered,  two  men,  re- 
solved to  fight  to  the  death,  confront  each 
other  in  the  last  act  over  a  table  on  which  lie 
two  pistols,  the  one  loaded,  the  other  empty 
and  harmless.  With  their  backs  to  the  table 
the  men  select  their  weapons,  then  face  each 
other,  and  shoot.  Sothern  was  to  take  up  the 
deadly  instrument,  and  as  he  fired,  the  trage 
dian,  with  a  splendid  "  back-fall,"  was  to  drop 
down,  a  corpse.  Alas!  alas!  the  pistols  were 
equally  innocent  of  anything  that  would  cause 
a  report,  and  Sothern  in  dismay  saw  the  al- 
most noiseless  fall  of  the  two  triggers,  followed 
by  the  tragedian  still  standing  and  staring 
at  him  in  mute  and  hopeless  dismay.  In  a 
moment  Sothern  became  inspired,  again  pre- 
sented the  pistol,  clicked  the  offending  trigger, 
and,  with  all  the  force  of  a  good  pair  of 
lungs,  roared  "  BANG !  "     The  effect  was  in- 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  19 

stantaneous.  The  tragedian  fell  as  if  he  had 
been  shot  through  every  vital  part  of  his  body, 
and  the  curtain  came  down  to  deafening 
applause. 

On  another  occasion,  a  young  lady  was  play- 
ing, who,  although  a  novice  in  acting,  had  a 
lovely  voice  of  which  she  was  proud,  and  al- 
ways used  on  the  stage,  even  though  the  occa- 
sion was  inopportune.  She  had  been  engaged 
t(»  play  a  part  in  a  melodrama,  and  had  made 
it  a  sine  qua  non  that  she  should  introduce 
a  song,  and  accompany  herself  on  the  piano. 
The  director  of  the  theatre,  being  obliged  to 
go  away  on  business,  gave  instructions  to  the 
stage-manager  that  she  was  to  do  this  wher- 
ever she  thought  best.  She  was  playing  the 
part  of  a  persecuted  maiden,  pursued  by  bri- 
gands, when,  in  the  midst  of  a  highly-wrought 
dramatic  scene,  to  the  horror  of  every  one  on 
the  stage  and  behind  the  scenes,  she  insisted 
upon  a  piano  being  discovered  in  the  wilds  of 
the  forest.  She  dashed  on  with  her  hair 
streaming  down  her  back,  and  after  a  strong 
declamatory  speech  expressive  of  the  idea  that 
she  wished  she  were  back  amongst  her  early 
friends,  she  exclaimed,  "  Ah,  I  see  that  the 
brigands  have  left  their  piano  in  the  woods, 
which  reminds  me  of  the  song  my  brother 
taught  me  long  ago."  Whereupon,  with  mar- 
vellous  comjjlaisance,   she   revolved   upon   the 


20  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

music-stool,   and   proceeded   to   sing   "  Home, 
Sweet  Home." 

But  I  must,  for  the  time  being,  abandon 
anecdote,  and  return  to  Sothern  at  Laura 
Keene's  theatre.  Here,  on  October  18,  1858, 
was  produced  for  the  first  time  the  piece  known 
as  "  Our  American  Cousin,"  by  Tom  Taylor. 
Much  to  his  disgust,  Sothern  was  cast  for  the 
subordinate  character  of  Lord  Dundreary, 
who  was  intended  to  be  an  old  man,  and  who 
had  only  forty-seven  lines  to  speak.  At  first  he 
declined  to  play  the  part,  but  subsequently, 
on  the  condition  that  he  should  be  permitted 
to  re-write  it  on  lines  of  his  own,  undertook  it. 
Then  he  commenced  putting  into  it  everything 
he  had  seen  that  had  struck  him  as  wildly 
absurd.  There  was  not,  he  used  afterwards 
to  declare,  a  single  look,  word,  or  act  in  Lord 
Dundreary  that  had  not  been  suggested  to  him 
by  people  whom  he  had  known  since  early 
boyhood.  On  the  first  night  the  part  was  by 
no  means  a  success, — indeed,  it  was  some  two 
or  three  weeks  before  the  public  began  to  un- 
derstand what  an  actor  whose  name  had 
hitherto  been  identified  with  characters  of  a 
serious  and  even  pathetic  type  meant  by  this 
piece  of  mad  eccentricity.  But,  once  compre- 
hended, Lord  Dundreary's  popularity  was  a 
thing  assured,  and  very  soon  he  made  a  not 
very  interesting  or  brilliant  play  one  of  the 


Sothern  on  the  Staee  2  [ 


& 


greatest  attractions  that  the  American  stage 
had  ever  known.  Everything  about  the  part 
— the  famous  make-up,  the  wig,  the  whiskers, 
and  the  eye-glass,  the  eccentric  yet  faultless 
costumes,  the  lisp  and  the  stutter,  the  ingen- 
ious distortion  of  old  aphorisms — was  the  out- 
come of  Sothern's  own  original  thought.  Only 
one  thing  connected  with  the  impersonation 
— the  quaint  little  hop  (that  odd  "  impediment 
in  the  gait,"  which  became  as  much  part  and 
parcel  of  his  lordship  as  the  impediment  in  his 
speech) — was  the  result  of  accident.  At  re- 
hearsal one  cold  day,  Sothern,  who  was  ever 
of  a  restless  disposition,  was  endeavouring  to 
keep  himself  warm  by  hopping  about  at  the 
back  of  the  stage,  when  Miss  Keene  sarcasti- 
cally inquired  if  "  he  was  going  to  introduce 
that  in  Dundreary?"  Among  the  bystanding 
actors  and  actresses  this  created  a  laugh,  and 
Sothern,  who  at  the  time  was  out  of  temper 
with  his  part,  replied  in  his  gravest  manner, 
"Yes,  Miss  Keene;  that's  my  view  of  the 
character."  Having  so  far  committed  himself, 
he  felt  bound  to  go  on  with  it,  and  finding 
as  the  rehearsal  progressed  that  the  whole 
company,  including  the  scene-shifters,  were 
convulsed  with  laughter,  he  at  night  made 
capital  out  of  a  modified  hop.  Months  grew 
into  years  while  Lord  Dundreary  reigned  su- 
preme upon  the  American  stage,  and  English 


2  2  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

playgoers  were  almost  wearying  of  waiting 
for  this  most  original  of  stage  creations,  when 
it"  was  modestly  enough  announced  that  on 
November  11,  1861,  Mr.  Sothern,  "  formerly  of 
the  Theatre  Royal,  Birmingham,  and  from  the 
principal  American  theatres,"  would  make  his 
first  appearance  at  the  Haymarket,  in  a  char- 
aster  which  he  had  already  played  for  up- 
wards of  eight  hundred  times.  In  theatrical 
circles  the  experiment  was,  oddly  enough,  con- 
sidered to  be  a  most  dangerous  one,  and  it  was 
only  because  the  Haymarket  was  sadly  in  need 
of  an  attraction  that  Sothern  got  a  chance  of 
appearing  on  its  historic  boards.  Lord  Dun- 
dreary, it  was  said,  had  become  popular  in 
New  York  because  the  American  theatregoers 
of  those  days  revelled  in  a  gross  and  insulting 
caricature  of  an  English  nobleman;  in  London 
the  performance  would,  no  doubt,  be  con- 
demned as  entirely  wanting  in  humour,  taste, 
and  judgment.  That  Sothern  himself  was  un- 
certain about  it  the  following  incident  will 
prove:  During  the  rehearsal  of  the  play  one 
of  the  oldest  members  of  the  Haymarket  com- 
pany came  upon  the  stage  while  he  was  run- 
ning  over  his  famous  letter  scene.  He  turned, 
and  said,  "  My  dear  madam,  don't  come  on 
here  till  you  get  your  cue.  In  fact,  on  the 
night  of  the  performance,  you  will  have  twenty 
minutes  to  wait  during  this  scene." 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  23 

"  Why,"  said  the  lady,  satirically,  "  do  you 
expect  so  much  applause?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Sothern ;  "  I  know  how  long 
this  scene  always  plays." 

"  Ah !  "  answered  the  actress,  "  but  suppose 
the  audience  should  not  take  your  view  of  the 
matter?" 

''  In  that  case,"  said  Sothern,  "  you  won't 
have  to  bother  yourself,  for  I  and  the  piece 
will  have  been  condemned  a  good  hour  before 
your  services  will  be  required." 

Sothern's  misgivings  with  regard  to  a  ven- 
ture upon  which  so  much  depended  had  been 
more  openly  expressed  in  a  letter  which,  be- 
fore leaving  America,  he  wrote  to  a  friend  in 
England : 

"  I  have  received  a  point-blank  offer,"  he 
said,  "  from  the  Theatre  Royal,  Haymarket, 
London,  and,  conditionally,  have  accepted,  to 
open  in  October  next.  I  commence  as  Lord 
Dundreary.  Every  one  foretells  a  hit;  hut  I 
am  douMfiil.  The  whole  past  seems  like  a 
dream  to  me.  Who  (when  I  first  played  Bev- 
erley as  an  amateur)  ever  imagined  that  I 
should  take  to  the  stage  as  a  profession — come 
over  to  America,  remain  nine  years,  and  re- 
turn to  '  star  '  in   London !  " 

What  a  terrible  "  first-night "  to  the  anx- 
ious actor  that  initial  performance  of  "  Our 
American  Cousin  "  on  the  London  stage  must 


24  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

have  been!  All  the  actors  and  actresses  of 
the  Haymarket  company,  including  Buckstone, 
who  played  Asa  Trenchard  (a  part  that  never 
suited  him),  Chippendale,  Eogers,  Clark,  Braid, 
Mrs.  Charles  Young,  Miss  M.  Oliver,  Miss  H. 
Lindley,  and  Miss  Henrade,  predicted  the  cer- 
tain failure  of  the  piece  and  its  principal  per- 
former; but  Sothern  attacked  his  work  boldly, 
and  although  the  piece  did  not  make  an  im- 
mediate success,  the  humour  and  originality 
of  his  acting  were  universally  acknowledged. 
It  was,  indeed,  some  time  before  "  Our 
American  Cousin  "  (which  is,  in  truth,  but  a 
poor  play)  drew  remunerative  audiences  and, 
in  despair  of  its  ever  doing  so,  Buckstone  had 
actually  put  up  notices  announcing  that  it 
would  be  immediately  replaced  by  "  She  Stoops 
to  Conquer,"  when  Charles  Mathews,  who  had 
seen  and  well  knew  how  to  appreciate  Soth- 
ern's  admirable  acting,  strongly  advised  him 
to  keep  it  in  the  bill,  declaring  that  Lord 
Dundreary  had  only  to  become  known  to  be 
phenomenally  popular.  How  right  in  his 
judgment  Mathews  was  the  sequel  proved. 
The  fame  of  his  lordship  spread  far  and  near; 
the  success  of  the  performance  became  as  great 
as  it  was  then  unprecedented,  and  for  four 
hundred  consecutive  nights  the  Haymarket 
was  crowded  with  eager,  delighted,  and  up- 
roariously   mirthful    audiences.     Well    might 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  25 

Sothern  in  those  days  look  back  with  pride  to 
the  perseverance  and  faith  in  himself  that  had 
upheld  him  through  so  many  struggles  and  dis- 
appointments, and  which  had  at  length  given 
him  the  realisation  of  his  most  sanguine 
hopes. 

It  may  here  be  worth  while  to  glance  at  the 
other  London  playhouses,  and  take  note  of  the 
programmes  with  which  "  Our  American 
Cousin  "  had  to  compete.  At  Drury  Lane  Miss 
Avonia  Jones  was  playing  in  "  Medea " ;  at 
the  Adelphi  the  Boucicaults  were  to  be  seen  in 
"  The  Colleen  Bawn " ;  at  the  Princess's 
Fechter  had  just  produced  "  Othello  " ;  at  the 
Lyceum  Falconer's  "  Peep  o'  Day "  was  the 
attraction;  at  the  Olympic  the  unrivalled 
Robson  was  acting  to  enthusiastic  and  en- 
thralled audiences;  at  the  St.  James's  Miss 
Herbert,  Miss  Kate  Terry,  and  Mr.  Alfred 
Wigan  were  appearing  in  "  The  Isle  of  St. 
Tropez  " ;  at  Sadler's  Wells  Mr.  Phelps's  artis- 
tic revival  of  "  The  Winter's  Tale  "  was  being 
given ;  and  at  the  Strand  "  Johnnie "  Clarke, 
*'  Jimmy "  Rogers,  and  Marie  Wilton,  bright- 
est and  best  trio  of  all  burlesque  performers, 
were  making  the  little  house  ring  with  merri- 
ment in  the  travesty  called  "  Esmeralda."  A 
small  number  of  theatres  these,  in  comparison 
with  the  long  list  with  which  we  are  to-day 
familiar;    but,    surely,    a   goodly    selection    of 


26  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

plays,  and  a  notable  group  of  performers, 
whose  names  the  history  of  the  stage  will  not 
allow  to  die.  Above  them  all,  however,  Soth- 
ern rose  pre-eminently,  and  for  many  months 
the  Haymarket  was  the  head  centre  of  theatri- 
cal attraction. 

It  must  have  been  very  gratifying  to  the 
actor  to  find  that  Lord  Dundreary  was  at  once 
understood  by  English  folk.  There  was  no 
suggestion  of  bad  taste;  the  impersonation,  ex- 
travagant though  it  undoubtedly  was,  was  not 
considered  foolish;  it  excited  laughter,  it 
gained  applause,  it  interested  as  much  as  it 
amused,  and  it  became  the  rage  not  only  of 
London  but  of  England.  Dundreary  was  upon 
the  lips  of  every  one.  Men  cultivated  Dun- 
dreary whiskers  and  aifected  Dundreary 
coats* ;  indeed,  at  that  time,  Sothern  was  such 
a  good  friend  to  the  tailors  that,  if  he  would 
have  accepted  them,  he  might  have  been  fur- 
nished, without  any  mention  of  payment,  with 
clothes  sufficient  for  a  dozen  lifetimes.  His 
dressing-room  at  the  Haymarket  was  crowded 

1  Mr.  E.  H.  Sothern  still  possesses,  and  it  need 
hardly  be  said,  prizes,  the  long  frock-coat  which,  on 
the  occasion  of  the  first  performance  of  "  Our 
American  Cousin  "  in  America,  his  father  borrowed 
from  Mr.  Boucicault  for  the  use  of  Lord  Dundreary. 
The  name  of  "  Boucicault "  is  affixed  to  this,  the 
original  of  a  since  world-famous  garment. 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  27 

with  parcels  sent  by  energetic  haberdashers, 
who  knew  that  if  by  wearing  it  upon  the  stage 
he  would  set  the  fashion  for  a  certain  make  of 
necktie,  or  a  particular  pattern  of  shirt-cuff, 
or  collar,  their  fortunes  would  be  half  made; 
and  hatters  and  bootmakers  followed  in  the 
haberdashers'  wake.  Dundreary  photographs 
were  seen  everywhere ;  "  Dundrearyisms,"  as 
they  came  to  be  called,  were  the  fashionable 
mots  of  the  day;  and  little  books  (generally 
very  badly  done)  dealing  with  the  imaginary 
doings  of  Dundreary  under  every  possible  con- 
dition, and  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  were 
in  their  thousands  sold  at  the  street  corners. 
Concerning  Dundreary  quite  three  parts  of 
England  went  more  than  half  mad,  and  not 
to  know  all  about  him  and  his  deliciously 
quaint  sayings  and  doings  was  to  argue  your- 
self unknown. 

The  actor  who  not  only  caused  but  sustained 
all  this  excitement  must  have  achieved  some- 
thing far  greater  than  the  mere  creation  of  a 
new  type  of  "  stage  swell."  Dundreary  was  a 
study  for  the  philosopher,  as  well  as  a  laugh- 
ing-stock for  the  idler,  and  he  thus  became 
popular  with  all  classes  of  the  community. 
Summing  him  up  in  his  tersely  odd  way,  the 
American  dramatic  critic  who  signs  himself 
"  Nym  Crinkle  "  said,  "  Mr.  Sothern's  concep- 
tion of  the  part  of  Dundreary,  if  not  an  in- 


28  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

spiration,  shows  inherent  originality.  The 
type  itself  is  new.  It  is  the  elaboration  of  a 
negation.  Dundreary  is  an  intellectual  non- 
entity. It  is  as  if  the  actor  had  set  about  to 
show  us  the  rich  fulness  of  a  vacuum.  But 
even  a  negation  becomes  eloquent  when  all  the 
faculties  of  the  artist  are  directed  upon  it. 
And  histrionism  here  shares  the  victory  of 
philosophy,  which  spends  centuries  of  learning 
to  prove  that  nothing  IS.  Heretofore  the 
stage  has  not  been  destitute  of  amusing  asses. 
Asininity,  in  fact,  always  played  a  prominent 
part  in  comedy.  But  when  did  we  ever  see 
a  player  devote  himself  to  the  elucidation  of 
its  mysteries  with  this  exhaustive  skill  and 
patience?  At  best  the  fool  was  portrayed  by 
empty  fooling,  no  one  seeming  to  think  it  a 
serious  matter  to  be  brainless;  and  how  ac- 
ceptable the  mere  physical  exposition  of  stu- 
pidity was  to  the  public  the  serene  idiot  in 
'  Humpty  Dumpty '  fully  demonstrated,  by 
grinning  vacuously  at  them  for  two  years. 
But  Mr.  Sothern  conceived  the  idea  of  an  ele 
gant  ass,  perfect  in  all  his  imperfections,  rich 
in  the  absence  of  brains,  coherent  in  his  inco- 
herency,  and  polished  in  the  proof  of  his 
stupidity.  More  than  this,  he  undertook  to 
show  us  the  internal  character  of  it;  the  very 
workings  of  the  addled  intellect;  and  it  was 
possible  to  put  our  finger  with  accuracy  on 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  29 

the  weak  spots  in  his  head  whenever  we  got 
through  laughing.  Dundreary  lacks  the  logi- 
cal faculty,  and  in  the  showing  humour  steps 
in  gracefully.  When  he  reads  his  brother 
Sam's  letter,  which  informs  him  that  Sam  has 
discovered  that  his  old  nurse  is  his  mother. 
Dundreary  brings  all  his  faculties  to  bear  upon 
his  own  interest  in  the  matter,  and  tries  to 
discover  who  his  mother  will  be  if  this  is  true. 
But  he  cannot  make  a  deduction.  Any  effort 
of  his  mind  to  be  sequential  involves  him  in 
inextricable  confusion.  He  uses  his  fingers 
as  aids.  His  thumb  represents  Sam's  mother; 
his  forefinger  is  his  own  mother;  and  then  he 
catches  sight  of  the  remaining  fingers,  and 
away  go  his  faculties.  Whose  mothers  are 
they?  This  is  foolishness,  but  rational  fool- 
ishness, after  all,  because  we  see  the  spring  of 
it.  There  is  also  this  significance  in  Dun- 
dreary— that  he  represents  the  possibility  of  a 
state  of  society  in  which  nothing  is  preserved 
to  the  individual  but  personal  vanity  of  ap- 
pearance. The  satire  is  doubtless  overdrawn, 
but  it  anticipates  the  fashionable  man  whose 
artificial  tastes  have  eaten  up  his  natural  fac- 
ulties. Mr.  Sothern's  success  is  not  flattering 
to  the  few  comedians  who  have  endeavoured 
to  show  by  direct  means  how  estimable  frank 
ness  and  common-sense  are — for  he  has  better 
shown  it  by  its  antithesis,  and  his  delicious 


30  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

dolt  has  seasoned  for  long  keeping  a  very 
trashy  play.  Above  all,  he  shows  the  true 
comedy  talent — the  power  of  getting  inside  a 
character,  and  making  it  talk  and  act  accord- 
ing to  its  nature." 

After  this  I  may  appropriately  quote  an 
English  critic's  judgment  on  the  first  appear- 
ance of  Lord  Dundreary  at  the  Haymarket. 
"  Whether,"  said  the  Athenceum  of  November 
16,  1861,  "  the  character  by  itself  would  sustain 
any  degree  of  interest,  we  much  doubt;  but  in 
the  hands  of  Mr.  Sothern,  the  gentleman  who 
has  been  acting  in  it  for  so  many  hundred 
nights  over  the  water,  it  is  certainly  the  fun- 
niest thing  in  the  world.  The  part  is  abstractly 
a  vile  caricature  of  an  inane  nobleman, 
intensely  ignorant  and  extremely  indolent.  i 
The  notion  once  accepted  by  the  audience  that  * 
such  an  absurd  animal  could  be  the  type  of 
any  class  whatever,  the  actor  was  free  to  ex- 
aggerate to  any  extent  the  representation  of  ] 
the  ridiculous,  Mr.  Sothern,  in  the  quietest 
way,  takes  full  advantage  of  his  position,  and 
effectually  subdues  the  audience  to  his  mood.  ' 
Laughter,  at  all  times  irrepressible,  finally  cul- 
minates in  a  general  convulsion,  which  to  our 
ears  seemed  quite  a  peculiarity — it  was  so 
strange,  and  yet  so  natural.  The  occasion 
was  simply  the  reading  of  a  letter  from  a 
brother   in   America,   containing   literally   no- 


1 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  31 

thing  more  than  he  feared  a  former  letter  had 
miscarried  from  his  having  forgotten  to  direct 
it.  This,  with  certain  inane  comments  on  its 
contents,  sufficed  to  enable  Mr.  Sothern  to 
produce  the  prodigious  effect  we  have  in- 
dicated. We  are  therefore  disposed  to  believe 
that  Mr.  Sothern,  as  an  eccentric  actor,  is  a 
man  of  no  ordinary  genius,  and  reasonably  de- 
sire his  further  acquaintance." 

Nothing  pleased  Sothern  better  than  to  meet 
with  people  who  did  not  look  upon  Dundreary 
as  an  absolute  fool.  His  lordship  was,  it 
will  be  remembered,  remarkably  shrewd  in  all 
matters  that  were  likely  to  affect  his  pocket; 
he  had  no  idea  of  being  in  any  way  or  by  any 
one  taken  in;  and  even  his  twisting  about  of 
familiar  proverbs,  ridiculous  as  it  was,  had 
in  it  a  certain  amount  of  naive  common-sense. 
On  that  point  Sothern  said: 

"  Now,  see  how  easily  this  thought,  which 
has  been  frequently  cavilled  at  as  too  non- 
sensical for  an  educated  man,  was  suggested. 
A  number  of  us  were,  years  ago,  taking  supper 
in  Halifax  after  a  performance,  when  a  man 
entered  the  room,  and,  looking  at  us,  said, 
'  Oh,  I  see !  Birds  of  a  feather ! '  I  instantly 
saw  the  weak  side  of  this  fragment  of  a  well- 
known  maxim,  and  winking  at  my  brother 
actors,  and  assuming  utter  ignorance,  I  said, 
'What  do  you  mean  by  birds  of  a  feather?' 


32  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

He  looked  rather  staggered,  and  replied, 
"  What,  have  you  never  heard  of  the  old  Eng- 
lish proverb — "  Birds  of  a  feather  flock 
together  "  ? '  Every  one  shook  his  head.  He 
then  said,  '  I  never  met  such  a  lot  of  ignora- 
muses in  my  life.'  That  was  my  cue,  and  I 
began  to  turn  the  proverb  inside  out.  I  said 
to  him,  '  There  never  could  have  been  such  a 
proverb — birds  of  a  feather!  The  idea  of  a 
whole  flock  of  birds  having  only  one  feather! 
The  thing  is  utterly  ridiculous.  Besides,  the 
poor  bird  that  had  that  feather  must  have 
flown  on  one  side;  consequently,  as  the  other 
birds  could  n't  fly  at  all,  they  could  n't  flock 
together.  But  even  accepting  the  absurdity, 
if  they  flocked  at  all  they  must  flock  together, 
as  no  bird  could  possibly  be  such  a  d — d  fool 
as  to  go  into  a  corner  and  try  and  flock  by 
himself.'  Our  visitor  began  to  see  the  force  of 
the  logic,  and  was  greeted  with  roars  of 
laughter.  I  made  a  memorandum  of  the  inci- 
dent, and  years  afterwards  elaborated  the  idea 
in  writing  Dundreary.  I  have  quires  upon 
quires  of  memoranda  of  a  similar  character; 
but  whenever  I  play  the  part  the  public  seem 
so  disappointed  at  not  hearing  the  old  lines 
that  I  fear  I  shall  never  have  the  opportunity 
of  getting  them  to  accept  what  would  really 
be  a  much  better  version," 

Even   as  it  was,   "  Our   American   Cousin " 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  ^t^ 

bristled  with  deliciously  quaint  "  Dnndreary- 
isms,"  as,  take,  for  example,  his  lordship's  re- 
mark when  Asa  Trenchard  asked  him  if  he  had 
"got  any  brains?"  "He  wants  to  find  out 
if  I've  got  any  brains,  and  then  he'll  scalp 
me ;  that 's  the  idea !  "  Or  again,  when  Dun- 
drcary,  after  copious  potations  of  brandy-and- 
soda,  is  alone  in  his  bedroom  and  says,  "  Every- 
thing seems  wobbling  about,  I  know  as  well 
as  possible  there  are  only  two  candles  there, 
and  yet  I  can't  help  seeing  four.  I  wonder, 
if  I  was  to  put  those  two  fellows  out,  what 
rcould  hecome  of  the  other  two?"  And  then, 
when  Asa  comes  in  and  suggests  they  shall 
"  have  the  liquors  up  and  make  a  night  of 
it,"  Dundreary  replies,  "Make  a  night  of  it? 
Why,  it  is  night!     It's  just  twelve  o'clock." 

In  the  scene  which  he  has  with  his  valet  Bud- 
dieom'be,  after  the  latter's  dismissal.  Dun- 
dreary shows  a  keen  sense  of  humour. 
Buddicomte  has  asked  for  a  character,  when 
the  following  conversation  takes  place: 

Dun.  I  '11  tell  you  the  best  plan.  You  write  your 
own  character,  and  I  '11  put  my  name  to  it.  It  will 
save  us  both  a  good  deal  of  anxiety. 

Bud.  Thank  you,  my  lord.  That  will  suit  me 
exactly.  Oh,  my  lord,  I  have  to  thank  you  for  the 
two  waistcoats  you  were  kind  enough  to  give  me, 
but  unfortunately  they  are  too  small  for  me. 

Dun.     Well,  give  them  to  your  mother. 

3 


34  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Bud.  Oh,  I  took  the  liberty  of  putting  them  back 
into  your  lordship's  wardrobe. 

Dun.  I  don't  want  to  carry  on  a  conversation  all 
day.  Go  away.  You  're  a  nice  person,  but  I  've 
had  enough  of  you. 

Bud.  Yes,  my  lord.  I  put  the  waistcoats  back, 
and  I  took  instead  two  coats. 

Dun.  This  is  getting  funny !  Oh !  You  've 
taken  a  couple  of  coats,  have  you? 

Bud.  Yes,  my  lord.  I  thought  you  wouldn't 
mind  the  exchange. 

Dun.     Oh  no,  I  rather  like  it!     New  ones,  I  hope. 

Bud.  I  can't  say  they  're  quite  new,  my  lord,  be- 
cause I  've  worn  one  and  my  brother  has  worn  the 
other. 

Dun.     Had  n't  you  better  let  your  uncle  have  one? 

Bud.  That 's  very  curious,  my  lord.  He 's  had 
one! 

Dun.  Oh !  I  'm  glad  you  've  made  the  old  man 
happy!     Have  you  taken  many  trousers? 

Bud.     Not  yet,  my  lord. 

Dun.  Oh,  not  yet!  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to 
look  them  over,  and  if  they  don't  fit  we  '11  have  them 
altered  for  you. 

Bud.  Really,  my  lord,  this  is  more  than  I 
expected. 

Dun.  It 's  a  great  deal  more  than  I  expected. 
Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  fetch  me  a 
policeman? 

Bud.     Yes,  my  lord.     Will  one  be  sufficient? 

Dun.  What  a  splendid  fool  this  fellow  is!  Oh, 
you  can  bring  me  one  and  a  quarter  if  you  like! 

From  the  scenes  between  Dundreary  and 
Georgina  one  may  almost  quote  at  random: 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  35 

Dun.  It 's  a  pretty  flower, — if  it  were  another 
colour.  One  fellow  likes  one  colour,  and  another  fel- 
low likes  another  colour.  Come,  you  know  what  I 
mean?  (Georgina  shakes  her  head.)  Yes,  you  do. 
I  don't — but  you  do.  I  mean  it 's  one  of  those  things 
that  grows  out  of  a  flower-pot, — roots, — mud, — and 
all  that  sort  of  thing.  Oh,  talking  of  mud  reminds 
me  I  want  to  say  something.  It 's  rather  awkward 
for  one  fellow  to  say  to  another  fellow, — the  fact 
is,  I  've  made  up  my  mind  to  propose  to  some  fel- 
low or  other,  and  it  struck  me  I  might  as  well  pro- 
pose to  you  as  anybody  else.  (Georgina  turns 
slightly  away  from  him.)  I  mean  sooner,  of  course. 
I  only  said  that  because  I  was  nervous, — any  fellow 
naturally  does  feel  nervous  when  he  knows  he 's 
going  to  make  an  ass  of  himself.  Talking  about 
asses,  I  Ve  been  a  bachelor  ever  since  I  've  been  so 
high,  and  I  Ve  got  rather  tired  of  that  sort  of  thing, 
and  it  struck  me  if  you  '11  be  kind  enough  to  marry 
me  I  shall  be  very  much  obliged  to  you.  Of  course, 
if  you  don't  see  the  matter  in  the  same  light,  and 
fancy  you  'd  rather  not, — why,  I  don't  care  a  rap 
about  it!  {She  turns  aside,  looking  amazed.)  I've 
got  it  all  mixed  up  somehow  or  other.  You  see,  the 
fact  is, — hem — hem!  {Pause.)  It  makes  a  fellow 
feel  awkward  when  he  's  talking  to  the  back  of  a 
person's  head.  {She  faces  him.)  Thank  you, 
that 's  better :  you  '11  find  me  a  very  nice  fellow, — 
at  least,  I  think  so, — that  is,  what  I  mean  is,  that 
most  fellows  think  me  a  nice  fellow, — two  fellows 
out  of  three  would  think  me  a  nice  fellow, — and 
the  other  fellow — the  third  fellow, — well,  that  fellow 
would  be  an  ass.  I'm  very  good-tempered,  too; 
that 's  a  great  point,  is  n't  it?  You  look  as  if  you  'd 
got  a  good  temper;  but  then,  of  course,  we  know 
that  many  a  girl  looks  as  if  she  'd  got  a  good  temper 


36  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

before  she 's  married, — but  after  she 's  married 
sometimes  a  fellow  finds  out  her  temper 's  not  ex- 
actly what  he  fancied.  {He  laughs  suddenly.) 
I  'm  making  a  devil  of  a  mess  of  it!  I  really  think 
we  should  be  very  happy.  I  'm  a  very  domesticated 
fellow, — fond  of  tea, — smoking  in  bed, — and  all  that 
sort  of  thing.  I  merely  name  that  because  it 
gives  you  an  insight  into  a  fellow's  character. 
You  '11  find  me  a  very  easy  fellow  to  get  along  with, 
and  after  we  've  been  married  two  or  three  weeks, 
if  you  don't  like  me  you  can  go  back  again  to  your 
mother. 

Those  who  remember  the  play  will  readily 
recall  the  delightful  exactitude  with  which 
each  point  in  this  extraordinary  "  proposal " 
speech  was  made.  Those  who  do  not  will, 
perhaps,  hardly  appreciate  it,  for  one  cannot 
on  paper  convey  the  comical  stutter,  the  quaint 
laugh,  and  the  wonderful  facial  expression  of 
the  actor ;  but  they  will  probably  see  in  it  signs 
of  the  curious  subtlety  of  the  character  that 
Sothern  invented. 

Later  on,  in  the  scene  in  which  Lieutenant 
Ver?ion  asks  Dundreary  to  use  his  influence  to 
get  him  appointed  to  a  captaincy,  there  occurs 
a  delicious  "  Dundrearyism  " : 

Dun.  I  suppose  you  are  right  in  your  lee 
scuppers? 

Lieut.     Lee  scuppers? 

Dun.  Your  mainbrace,  larboard  stove  pipes, 
hatchway,  helm-rudder,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing? 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  37 

Lieut.  Oh, — you  mean, — can  I  pass  my  ex- 
amination? 

Dun.  I  don't  mean  anything  of  the  sort.  Of 
course  you  can  pass  it.  The  point  is,  can  you  get 
through  it? 

The  joke  of  the  dog  wagging  his  tail  because 
of  his  superior  strength,  and  in  order  to  pre- 
vent the  tail  wagging  the  dog,  has  become  such 
a  byword  that  it  need  not  be  detailed  here — 
though  it  is  sometimes,  I  fancy,  forgotten  that 
its  originator  was  Dundreary. 

The  letter  from  Sam  (the  immortal  Sam 
who  never  had  a  "  uel  "),  which  used  to  be  the 
great  success  of  the  evening,  and  which,  de- 
livered as  it  was,  used  to  make  people  abso- 
lutely sore  with  laughing,  must  be  given,  with 
the  stage  directions,  in  ewtenso: 

(Before  opening  letter  read  "  N.B."  outside  it.) 
"  N.B. — If  you  don't  get  this  letter,  write  and  let  me 
know."     That  fella 's  an   ass,  whoever  he   is ! 

(Opens  letter,  taking  care  he  holds  it  upside 
down.)  I  don't  know  any  fella  in  America  except 
Sam;  of  course  I  know  Sam,  because  Sam's  my 
brother.  Every  fella  knows  his  own  brother.  Sam 
and  I  used  to  be  boys  when  we  were  lads,  both  of 
us.  We  were  always  together.  People  used  to  say, 
"  Birds  of  a  feather  " — what  is  it  birds  of  a  feather 
do? — oh,  "Birds  of  a  feather  gather  no  moss!" 
That 's  ridiculous,  that  is.  The  idea  of  a  lot  of 
birds  picking  up  moss !  Oh  no ;  it 's  the  early  bird 
that  knows  its  own  father.     That's  worse  than  the 


38'  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

other.  No  bird  can  know  its  own  father.  If  he 
told  the  truth,  he  'd  say  he  was  even  in  a  fog  about 
his  own  mother.  I  've  got  it — it 's  the  wise  child 
that  gets  the  worms !  Oh,  that 's  worse  than  any 
of  them!  No  parent  would  allow  his  child  to  get 
a  lot  of  worms  like  that!  Besides,  the  whole  pro- 
verb 's  nonsense  from  beginning  to  end.  Birds  of  a 
feather  flock  together :  yes,  that 's  it !  As  if  a 
whole  flock  of  birds  would  have  only  one  feather! 
They  'd  all  catch  cold.  Besides,  there 's  only  one 
of  those  birds  could  have  that  feather,  and  that 
fella  would  fly  all  on  one  side !  That 's  one  of  those 
things  no  fella  can  find  out.  Besides,  fancy  any 
bird  being  such  a  d — d  fool  as  to  go  into  a  corner 
and  flock  all  by  himself !  Ah,  that 's  one  of  those 
things  no  fella  can  find  out.  {Looks  at  letter.) 
Whoever  it 's  from  he 's  written  it  upside  down. 
Oh  no,  I  've  got  it  upside  down !  I  knew  some  fella 
was  upside  down.  (Laughs.)  Yes,  this  is  from 
Sam;  I  always  know  Sam's  handwriting  when  I  see 
his  name  on  the  other  side.  "  America."  Well, 
I  'm  glad  he 's  sent  me  his  address !  "  My  dear 
brother."  Sam  always  calls  me  brother,  because 
neither  of  us   have   got   any   sisters. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  my  last  letter  miscarried,  as 
I  was  in  such  a  hurry  for  the  post  that  I  forgot  to 
put  any  direction  on  the  envelope."  Then  I  sup- 
pose that 's  the  reason  I  never  got  it;  but  who  could 
have  got  it?  The  only  fella  that  could  have  got 
that  letter  is  some  fella  without  a  name.  And  how 
on  earth  could  he  get  it?  The  postman  couldn't 
go  about  asking  every  fella  he  met  if  he  'd  got  no 
name! 

Sam's  an  ass!  "I  find  out  now"  (I  wonder 
what  he 's  found  out  now?)    "  that  I  was  changed 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  39 

at  my  birth."  Now,  what  d — d  nonsense  that  is! 
Why  did  n't  he  find  it  out  before?  "  My  old  nurse 
turns  out  to  be  my  mother."  What  rubbish!  Then, 
if  that 's  true,  all  I  can  say  is,  Sam 's  not  my 
brother,  and  if  he  's  not  my  brother,  who  the  devil 
am  I?  Let's  see  now.  Stop  a  minute  {pointing  to 
forefinger  of  left  hand) .  That 's  Sam's  mother,  and 
that's  {the  thumb)  Sam's  nurse.  Sam's  nurse  is 
only  half  the  size  of  his  mother.  Well,  that 's  my 
mother  {points  to  second  finger  on  left  hand.  He 
finds  he  can't  get  that  finger  to  stand  up  like  the 
rest — the  thumb  and  forefinger — as  he  closes  the 
third  and  little  finger).  I  can't  get  my  mother  to 
stand  up.  Well,  that 's  my  mother  {holds  up  fore- 
finger of  right  hand;  in  the  meantime  he  has  opened 
all  the  fingers  of  the  left  hand) .  Hullo,  here 's  a 
lot  of  other  fellas'  mothers!  Well,  as  near  as  I 
can  make  out,  Sam  has  left  me  no  mother  at  all! 
Then  the  point  is,  who 's  my  father?  Oh,  that 's 
a  thing  no  fella  can  find  out! 

Oh,  here 's  a  P.S.  "  By  the  bye,  what  do  you 
think  of  the  following  riddle?  If  fourteen  dogs  with 
three  legs  each  catch  forty-eight  rabbits  with  seven- 
ty-six legs  in  twenty-five  minutes,  how  many  legs 
must  twenty-four  rabbits  have  to  get  away  from 
ninety-three  dogs  with  two  legs  each  in  half  an 
hour?  " 

Here  's  another  P.S.  "  You  will  be  glad  to  know 
that  I  have  purchased  a  large  estate,  somewhere  or 
other  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi.  Send  me 
the  purchase  money.  The  enclosed  pill-box  con- 
tains a  sample  of  the  soil!  " 


Though  in  all  the  public  announcements  of 


40  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

"  Our  American  Cousin  "  the  play  was  stated 
to  be  the  sole  work  of  Tom  Taylor,  in  a  manu- 
script copy  of  it  which  is  now  before  me,  it  is 
clearly  set  down  that  "  the  character  of  Lo7d 
Dundreary  "  was  "  written  and  created  by  Mr. 
Sothern."  In  the  handwriting  of  the  actor 
this  book  is  full  of  instructions  which  show 
that,  easily  as  he  always  acted,  he  was  ever 
anxious  concerning  the  proper  "  making  of  his 
points,"  and  the  improvement  of  the  play.  In 
the  scene  between  Dundreary  and  his  valet 
from  which  I  have  quoted,  he  says,  "  Warn 
Buddicomhe  to  play  well  down  the  stage,  to 
speak  very  clearly,  and  wait  till  every  laugh 
is  followed  by  a  dead  silence."  Of  one  of  the 
Georgina  scenes  he  notes,  "  Every  line  of  this 
scene  is  a  roar,  but  it  is  not  long  enough  " ;  and 
of  an  encounter  with  Asa,  albeit  it  was  his 
own  work,  he  remarks,  "  This  scene  is  as  bad 
as  it  can  be."  Before  the  famous  reading  of 
the  letter,  he  enjoins,  "  Extreme  silence  dur- 
ing Mr.  Sothern's  scene,"  and  after  it  he  ad- 
mits, "  Once  my  letter  is  read,  the  rest  of 
the  piece  sinks  down." 

Sothern  was  incessantly  at  work  altering, 
cutting,  adding  to,  and  elaborating  his  parts. 
His  son,  Mr.  E.  H.  Sothern,  has  entrusted  me 
with  another  and  later  copy  of  "  Our  Ameri- 
can Cousin,"  which  is  full  of  notes,  and  which 
is,  in  his  opinion,  the  most  interesting  of  the 


MR.    E.    H.    SOTHERN    AS    DUNDREARY. 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  41 

copies  that  exist.  Here  we  find  a  note  to  the 
effect  that  the  actors  who  are  performing  in 
the  piece  are  to  be  warned  that  "  no  eye- 
glass or  side  whiskers  are  to  be  worn  "  (the 
reason  for  this  is  obvious),  and  that  "the  peo- 
ple are  to  play  quick  until  the  entrance  of 
Dundreary  J'  "  Every  one  in  evening  dress ; 
gentlemen  do  not  wear  gloves,"  is  the  heading 
in  Sothern's  handwriting  to  the  first  act. 
This  was  the  prompt  copy  used  on  English 
and  American  provincial  tours,  and  no  doubt 
the  faultlessly-dressed  Dundreary  had  on  more 
than  one  occasion  been  shocked  at  the  solecisms 
of  the  country  actors  cast  for  Sir  Edward 
Trenchard,  and  Captain  de  Boots.  Such  an 
instruction  as  this  would  not  be  taken  amiss. 
^^  Not  to  wear  gloves  "  would  not  be  expensive. 
It  is  when  an  exacting  star  expects  the  poorly 
paid  actor  who  supports  him  to  dress  up  to  his 
standard  that  anxiety  comes  in.  Sothern,  in 
his  own  handwriting,  gives  the  following  wild 
letter  from  young  Edward  Trenchard  (it  was 
he,  it  will  be  remembered,  who  introduces 
Cousin  Asa  to  his  English  relatives)  to  his 
father :  "  I  am  delighted  with  America — and 
the  Americans.  It  is  a  grand  country.  I  've 
travelled  everywhere;  I've  shot  alligators  in 
the  south;  killed  buffalo  in  the  west;  been 
hunting  in  Minnesota  with  a  party  of  Crows 
six  feet  high ;  and  am  now  resting  in  this  lovely 


42  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

place,  enjoying  the  pure  air,  and  whipping  the 
trout  streams  of  Vermont."  Then  follows  a 
scene  by  Sothern,  in  which,  in  a  far  shorter 
time  than  Tom  Taylor  took  about  it,  the  story 
of  the  Mary  Meredith  relationship  with  the 
Trenchards  is  told,  and  the  expected  arrival 
of  Asa  is  discussed.  In  this  connection  the 
cautious  Sothern,  evidently  with  an  eye  on 
provincial  American  audiences,  makes  Flor- 
ence Trenchard  say,  ''  Stop !  I  won't  hear 
another  word  against  him!  The  Americans 
are  a  brave  and  earnest  people,  and  it  is  ab- 
surd to  suppose  that  they  all  speak  through 
their  noses,  perpetually  drink  chain-lightning, 
or  slap  everybody  on  the  back  and  call  you 
'  Old  Hoss ! '  "  To  which  Sir  Edward  replies, 
"  Why,  what  American  novels  have  you  been 
reading,  Florry  ?  You  're  quite  enthusias- 
tic ! "  and  the  daughter  discreetly  answers, 
"  Nay,  papa  dear ;  I  'm  merely  just."  A  little 
later  on,  Dundreary,  pointing  to  the  outrage- 
ously dressed  Asa,  says  to  Mrs.  Mountchess- 
ington,  "Is  that  the  American?"  and  when 
she  answers  "  Yes,"  he  asks,  "  What  made  him 
come  in  disguise?  Sam  says  they've  got  no- 
thing but  blankets  and  rings  through  their 
noses."  So  Sothern's  consummate  tact  showed 
him  how  to  round  off  corners  that  might,  un- 
der certain  conditions,  prove  troublesome. 
In  the  second  act  of  this  copy  there  is  an- 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  43 

other  scene  between  Dundreary  and  his  valet. 
Buddicom'be  is  brushing  his  master's  hair 
while  the  latter  lazily  looks  through  the  ad- 
vertisements in  a  newspaper,  and  the  following 
ridiculous  conversation  takes  place: 

Dun.  (reading).  "WANTED.—  A  baby  to  bring 
up  in  a  bottle " 

Bud.     Oh!   by  the  bottle,  my  lord 

Dun.  Buy  it?  What,  with  the  baby  in  it? 
Nonsense!     I   don't  want  any  bottled  babies. 

Dun.  (reading).  "  TEETH.— Teeth  taken  out 
with  pleasure  and  comfort,  by  the  aid  of  laughing 
gas."  Buddicombe,  you  must  have  some  laughing 
gas. 

Bud.     But  I  don't  require  any,  my  lord. 

Dun.  Well,  but  you  must  have  it,  for  me  to  see 
the  operation. 

Bud.  My  teeth  are  all  sound,  my  lord ;  and  I  've 
got  thirty-two. 

Dun.  Then  you've  got  too  many;  no  fellow  wants 
thirty-two  teeth — they  're  only  in  the  way.  Three 
or  four  are  quite  enough  for  a  fellow  like  you. 
(Reading)  "  WANTED.— Wanted  at  school— two 
thrashing  machines." 

Bud.  At  school?  No,  no,  my  lord.  Wanted  at 
Scole.     Scole  is  a  small  town  in  Norfolk. 

Dun.  I'm  not  an  ass.  I  know  that!  Have  you 
ever  been  to  Scole — I  mean  school? 

Bud.     Yes,  my  lord,  certainly. 

Dun.  Any  thrashing  going  on  while  you  were 
there? 

Bud.  I  received  nothing  but  good  marks,  my 
lord. 

Dun.     Have  you  got  any  of  them  now? 


44  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Bud.  I  have  prizes,  my  lord.  I  was  top  boy  in 
my  school. 

Dun.  It  must  have  been  a  jolly  old  school,  then. 
Oh!  {reading)  listen  to  these  fellows!  They  ought 
to  be  in  a  lunatic  asylum!  "WANTED:  SHOOT- 
ING!— Two  gentlemen  require  shooting  every  day 
for  a  month."  What  d'ye  think  of  those  fellows? 
Buddicombe,  I  '11  lend  you  a  gun,  and  you  can  have 
a  pop  at  those  fellows  all  next  week. 

Bud.  I  'm  afraid  that  sort  of  sport  would  n't  suit 
the  gentlemen. 

Dun.     Never  mind,  it  might  please  you! 

Bud.  If  I  did  such  a  thing,  my  lord,  I  should  be 
hanged. 

Dun.  Do  you  think  you  would?  Well,  then — 
do  it. 

And  so  on  ad  lib. 

In  the  third  act,  Buddicombe  is  warned  that 
in  his  scenes  with  Dundreary  he  should  "  speak 
slowly,  very  clearly,  and  wait  until  every  tit- 
ter is  over  before  he  begins  his  speeches.  His 
dress  is  frock-coat,  white  vest,  dark  trousers, 
high  white  collar,  and  dark  necktie.  Hat,  and 
no  gloves."  This  glove  question  was  evidently 
in  some  places  a  troublesome  one. 

The  long,  rambling,  incoherent  story  that 
Dundreary  tells  to  Geortjina,  and  which  was 
always  being  altered,  is  here  written  in  as 
follows : 

"  When  Sam  was  a  lad  he  was  merely  a 
baby — born,  and  everything  like  that,  of 
course.    He   had   a   bald   head   too,   and   was 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  45 

greatly  annoyed  about  it, — I  don't  mean  an- 
uo3'ed  about  being  bald,  but  about  being  born 
at  all.  What  I  mean  is, — he  put  it  this  way, 
— there  he  was,  and  of  course  it  was  too  late 
to  alter  the  position.  There  was  another  fel- 
low,— an  old  chum  of  Sam's, — and  he  was 
born  too, —  and  he  had  a  bald  head  too.  There 
was  a  good  deal  of  jealpusy  about  that.  This 
fellow  was  a  baby  about  Sam's  age.  There 
was  a  good  deal  of  bother  about  that.  His 
mother  asked  my  opinion  about  it,  but  I  told 
her  I  did  n't  want  to  get  mixed  up  in  family 
matters.  Well,  that  fellow  died,  and  made 
himself  very  comfortable  in  that  sort  of  way, 
— and  his  cousin  by  another  fellow's  godmother 
married  a  girl  that  I  was  going  to  marry, — 
only  I  did  n't  get  up,  or  something  like  that, — 
my  man  did  n't  call  me,  —or  something  of  that 
sort, — so  she  married  this  other  fellow, — a 
very  nice  fellow  he  was,  and  I  wanted  to  do 
him  a  good  turn,  and  there  it  was.  They  were 
very  happy  and  all  that, — splendid  mother- 
in-law  and  a  large  family, — about  fourteen 
children, — made  things  very  pleasant  like  that, 
— nearly  all  of  them  twins, — and  they  made 
me  godfather  to  about  a  dozen  of  them.  The 
wife  was  a  very  nice  woman,  with  her  nose  a 
little  on  one  side, — a  lovely  girl  though.  His 
nose  was  a  little  on  one  side,  too,  so  it  made 
everything  pleasant  like  that.     All  the  child- 


46  Edward  Askew^Sothern 

ren's  noses  were  on  one  side  too.  They  were 
what  you  might  call  south-south-west  noses. 
Fourteen  noses  looked  very  pleasant  like  that. 
Whenever  I  met  them  in  the  park  it  always 
struck  me  that  if  my  fool  of  a  man  had  only 
called  me  that  morning,  and  I  had  married 
their  mother, — I  mean,  if  I  'd  been  their  father, 
— it  was  quite  on  the  cards  that  their  noses 
might  have  been  a  little But  that 's  no- 
thing to  do  with  the  anecdote.  Well,  one  day 
he  went  on  a  stroll  with  his  mother-in-law, — a 
woman  he  hated  like  poison, — and  they  got 
shipwrecked, — had  a  very  jolly  time  of  it, — 
lived  on  a  raft  for  about  a  fortnight, — lived 
on  anything  they  could  pick  up, — oysters^ 
sardines, — I  don't  exactly  know  what, — until 
at  last  they  had  to  eat  each  other.  They  used 
to  toss  up  who  they  should  eat  first, — and  he 
was  a  very  lucky  fellow;  and  when  he  was  left 
alone  with  his  mother-in-law,  he  tied  her  to 
the  raft — legs  dangling  in  the  water,  and 
everything  pleasant  like  that.  Then  he  stuck 
a  penknife  in  his  mother-in-law,  and  cut  her 
up  in  slices,  and  ate  her.  He  told  me  that  he 
enjoyed  the  old  woman  very  much.  He  was  a 
splendid  fellow, — full  of  humour — and  full  of 
mother-in-law,  too." 

Of  course,  without  the  inimitable  manner  in 
which  Sothern  used  to  give  utterance  to  it,  this 
whimsical    balderdash    loses    almost    all    its 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  47 

point;  but  I  hope  that  with  me  most  of  my 
readers  will  be  able  to  recall  this  marvellously 
subtle  and  perfect  impersonation.  Not  many, 
I  think,  will  agree  with  the  intelligent  play- 
goer who,  having  sat  through  a  performance 
of  "  Our  American  Cousin,"  left  the  theatre 
saying  that  ''  Lord  Dundreary  was  the  worst 
played  part  in  the  piece,  because  the  actor  had 
such  an  unfortunate  impediment  in  his 
speech." 

In  the  first  copy  of  Tom  Taylor's  play  of 
which  I  have  made  mention,  there  is  a  note  by 
Sothern  to  the  effect  that  a  scene  between 
Dundreary  and  Asa,  at  the  end  of  the  third 
act,  is  "  as  bad  as  bad  can  be."  In  the  one 
of  which  I  am  now  writing  it  is  replaced  by 
the  following,  in  Sothern's  own  handwriting — 

Asa.  How  do  you  do,  my  lord? 

Dun.  Can't  you  see,  I  'm  not  doing  anything. 

Asa.  Nice  place  this.  I  suppose  you  own  lots 
of  farms  like  this — eh? 

Dun.  Well,  I   suppose  I   do. 

Asa.  Do  they  raise  much  on  this  one? 

Dun.  Yes — sometimes. 

Asa.  What? 

Dun.  Money. 

Asa.  Yes, — but  do  you  raise  wheat,  and  oats, 
and  potatoes? 

Dun.  No,  I  don't;  but  my  tenants  do. 

Asa.  Of  course  you  raise  pigs? 

Dun.  Raise  pigs?     No.     When  I  want  exercise  I 


48  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

raise  dumb-bells.  (Aside).  This  fellow's  an 
idiot! 

Asa.  Look  here,  now.  I  want  information. 
What  do  you  feed  your  pigs  on? 

Dun.  On  the  ground,  of  course!  Do  you  sup- 
pose I  feed  them  up  in  a  balloon? 

Asa.  No,  no;  I  mean,  what  do  you  give  them  to 
eat? 

Dun.  Grass,  and  corn,  and  sardines, — anything 
they  fancy.     I  don't  care  what  they  eat. 

Asa.  When  you  give  them  corn,  do  you  use  it  in 
the  ear? 

Dun.     Do  I  do  what? 

Asa.     Give  it  them  in  the  ear? 

Dun.  In  their  ears?  The  fellow's  mad!  What 
have  the  animals  got  mouths  for  if  they  're  going  to 
have  their  food  rammed  down  their  ears? 

Asa.  Blessed  if  I  know  if  this  fellow 's  a  fool, 
or  whether  he 's   selling  me. 

And  much  more  to  the  same  purpose,  until 
such  as  in  those  days  remained  of  the  serious 
interest  of  the  piece  was  resumed. 

In  the  fourth  act  there  is  little  of  interest, 
save  an  appeal  to  the  company  to  "  pay  all 
their  attention  to  the  tag  at  the  end  of  the 
piece,"  and  a  note  near  the  conclusion  of  the 
reading  of  the  famous  Sam's  letter  to  the  effect 
that  ^'  Sir  Edward  and  Florence  must  be  ready 
to  come  on,  in  case  Dundreary  does  n't  read 
P.SS."  Which  shows  that  encores  may  be 
missed,  even  in  the  best  regulated  of  pieces. 

And  so,  through  infinite  painstaking.  Dun- 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  49 

dreary  became  the  established  theatrical  hero 
of  the  day.  Every  saying  and  every  action  of 
the  apparently  semi-idiotic  creature  was  the 
result  of  careful  observation  and  study;  even 
the  preposterous  counting  of  the  fingers  was  a 
transcript  from  what  had  been  seen.  "  You 
remember,"  said  Sothern,  "  that  in  one  act  T 
have  a  by-pla}'  on  my  fingers,  in  which  I  count 
from  one  to  ten,  and  then,  reversing,  begin 
with  the  right  thumb  and  count,  ten,  nine, 
eight,  seven,  six,  and  five  are  eleven.  This  has 
frequently  been  denounced  by  critics  as  ut- 
terly out  of  place  in  the  character,  but  I  took 
the  incident  from  actual  life,  having  seen  a 
notoriously  clever  man  on  the  English  turf, 
as  quick  as  lightning  in  calculating  odds,  com- 
pletely puzzled  by  this  ridiculous  problem." 

How  "  Our  American  Cousin  "  was  revived, 
and  re-revived  on  the  Haymarket  boards,  and 
how,  even  when  he  was  attracting  large  audi- 
ences with  other  plays,  Sothern  found  it  ex- 
pedient to  appear  in  little  after-pieces  in  which 
Dundreary  figured,  is  a  matter  of  stage  his- 
tory. One  of  these  farces  (it  was  the  joint 
work  of  Sothern  and  H.  J.  Byron,  and  in  it  all 
Tom  Taylor's  characters  were  absurdly  bur- 
lesqued) was  entitled,  "  Dundreary  Married 
and  Settled,"  and  in  connection  with  it  an 
extraordinary  but  true  story  of  a  young  man 
who  had  mistaken  his  vocation  is  on  record. 


50  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

"  I  was  playing,"  said  Sothern,  "  at  the 
Theatre  Royal,  Edinburgh,  in  '  Dundreary 
Married  and  Settled.'  Among  the  company 
was  a  young  fellow  who,  although  undeniably 
well-educated  and  a  thorough  gentleman,  had 
been  obviously  and  expressly  made  not  to  be 
an  actor.  He  had  ruined  two  or  three  scenes 
with  me  in  pieces  which  we  had  previously 
performed,  and  I  was  forced  to  tell  the  stage 
manager  particularly  not  to  let  him  play 
Lieutenant  Vernon.  The  manager,  however, 
begged  me  to  give  the  young  fellow  another 
chance,  and  I  consented,  at  the  same  time  re- 
marking, '  You  '11  find  there  will  be  another 
contretemps,  and  the  mischief  to  pay.'  The 
lines  he  had  to  utter,  when  I  gave  him  a  cer- 
tain cue,  were  as  follows :  '  That 's  a  nice  horse 
to  lend  a  friend;  I  never  could  ride.  I  have 
broken  both  his  knees.  Where  is  Georgina? 
Upstairs  ?  Heave  ahead ! '  You  can  imagine 
the  consternation  of  us  all  when,  the  time  hav- 
ing arrived  for  him  to  '  go  on,'  he  paid  not  the 
slightest  attention  to  the  cue,  but  listened  in- 
tently at  the  keyhole,  apparently  absorbed  in 
his  own  meditations,  and  softly  whistling  to 
himself,  'Still  so  Gently  O'er  Me  Stealing.' 
What  to  do  I  did  not  know.  I  shrugged  my 
shoulders  and  looked  despairingly  at  the 
prompter,  for  there  was  a  dead  pause  in  the 
play,  which  was,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  em- 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  51 

barrassing.  The  prompter,  a  quick-tempered 
man,  rushed  round  to  the  door,  and  you  can 
imagine  my  feelings  as  the  young  fellow  in  an 
instant  afterwards  came  half  leaping,  half 
falling  on  the  stage,  as  frightened  and  amazed 
as  if  he  had  been  shot  out  of  a  catapult.  The 
prompter  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  an 
inviting  attitude,  and  as  Lieutenant  Vernon 
stood  bending  over  the  keyhole,  he  received  the 
full  force  of  a  heavy  boot  that  greatly  acceler- 
ated his  motion.  With  a  howl  of  agony,  the 
young  amateor  exclaimed,  '  My  God !  What 's 
that?'  Not  knowing  the  cause  of  this  dem- 
onstration, I  whispered  to  him.  '  Come  on, 
sir ;  come  on !  Quick ! '  Poor  fellow,  he  had 
'  come  on  '  with  a  vengeance ;  and  this  is  what, 
in  the  confusion  of  the  moment,  he  said: 
"  That 's  a  nice  girl  to  lend  a  friend :  I  never 
could  ride.  I  have  broken  both  her  knees! 
Where  is  the  horse?  Upstairs?  Heave 
ahead ! '  That  is  one  of  the  few  times  in  my 
experience  when  I  felt  as  if  I  had  been  shaken 
up  by  an  earthquake." 

Another  of  these  ''  wild  whimsicalities,"  as 
Sothern  called  them,  was  entitled  "  Dundreary 
a  Father."  The  one  was  as  ephemeral  as  the 
other,  and,  amusing  as  both  were,  neither 
added  much  to  the  fame  of  Sothern  or  the 
popularity  of  Dundreary. 

In  due  course  Dundreary  tried  his  fortune 


52  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

in  Paris,  but  there  he  did  not  make  a  success. 
French  audiences  failed  to  see  the  humour  of 
the  creation,  and  his  lordship  was  slightingly 
alluded  to  by  critics  as  "  un  sort  de  snob." 
It  is  interesting,  however,  to  note  that  Henry 
Irving,  Edward  Saker,  and  John  T.  Raymond 
were  members  of  the  company.  Irving  played 
the  drunken  lawyer's  clerk,  Adel  Murcott,  and, 
in  connection  with  the  luckless  engagement, 
Raymond,  who  was  the  Asa  Trenchard,  has  re- 
corded a  couple  of  good  stories  that  prove  that 
the  failure  of  his  venture  by  no  means  damped 
Sothern's  elastic  spirits.  These  stories  should, 
perhaps,  have  their  place  in  another  chapter, 
but  as  they  deal  with  Dundreary  in  Paris,  they 
shall  be  told  here. 

"  You  are,  perhaps,  aware,"  wrote  the  popu- 
lar American  comedian,  "  that  at  the  subsidy 
theatres  in  France,  no  fire,  not  even  a  lighted 
match,  is  permitted  on  the  stage.  You  will 
also  recall  the  fact  that  in  one  part  of  the  play 
Asa  Trenchard  has  to  burn  a  will.  In  order 
to  comply  with  the  law,  and  at  the  same  time 
get  rid  of  this  document,  I  was  compelled  to 
tear  the  will  instead  of  applying  the  match 
in  the  usual  way.  The  result  was  that  the 
part  was  not  at  all  a  success,  much  of  its 
point  being  lost  by  the  tameness  of  this  in- 
cident. At  last  I  said  to  Sothern,  '  I  have  a 
great  mind  to  burn  the  thing,   anyhow,   and 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  53 

take  the  chances.'  My  misfortune  was  in  con- 
fiding my  intention  to  Sothern,  for  he  instantly 
gave  instructions  to  one  of  the  gendarmes  who 
was  hovering  about  the  wings  to  arrest  me  in 
the  act.  When  the  scene  came  on,  anticipat- 
ing no  trouble,  but  expecting,  on  the  contrary, 
to  receive  a  recall,  as  I  always  did  at  this 
juncture,  I  struck  the  match  and  lighted  the 
paper.  Before  I  knew  anything  else  I  was 
seized  from  behind  by  a  big  gendarme  and 
carried  bodily  otf  the  stage.  Of  course  the 
audience  did  not  know  what  was  the  matter, 
and  I  was  equally  in  the  dark.  Not  speaking 
French,  I  could  not  make  any  explanation,  or 
ask  any  questions,  and  the  more  I  struggled 
the  tighter  the  gendarme  held  me  in  his  grip. 
It  was  only  when  Mr.  Sefton,  the  agent  of 
Sothern,  made  his  appearance  and  explained 
matters  that  I  was  released.  You  should  have 
seen  then  how  that  French  official,  mad  as  a 
hornet  at  being  imposed  upon,  went  for  Soth- 
ern, and  the  manner  in  which  he  disappeared 
down  the  back-stairs  into  a  convenient  hiding- 
place.  Fortunately,  Mr.  Sefton  was  able  to 
appease  the  indignation  of  the  irate  French- 
man, and  in  a  few  minutes  Dundreary  was  per- 
mitted to  come  out  of  his  retirement,  and  the 
play  went  on  happily. 

"  During  this  engagement,"  continued  Ray- 
mond, "  we  had  a  frightful  fight  one  night,  and 


54  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

produced  a  perfect  scare  among  the  members 

of  the  company.  ,  the  celebrated  bill-poster 

of  Paris  and  London,  was  in  the  green-room, 
and  made  some  remark  as  coming  from  Soth- 
ern concerning  me  which  I  purposely  construed 
into  a  most  grievous  insult.  Dashing  im- 
petuously into  Sothern's  dressing-room,  which 
was  just  off  the  green-room,  I  demanded  in  a 
loud  tone,  that  could  be  heard  by  everybody, 
instant  satisfaction  or  his  life,  whispering  to 
Sothern  to  keep  up  the  joke.  Always  as  quick 
as  lightning  to  take  a  hint,  he  presently 
emerged,  kicking  me  out  of  his  apartment  into 
the  midst  of  the  now  thoroughly  aroused  peo- 
ple in  the  green-room.  I  rushed  off  to  get  a 
knife,  swearing  vengeance.  Everybody  ap- 
pealed to  me  to  be  quiet,  and  tried  to  hold  me 
back,  while  I  contended  that  nothing  but  his 
life's  blood  would  wipe  out  the  insult.  Of 
course  the  play  had  to  continue,  but  the  actors 
were  almost  afraid  to  go  on  the  stage,  looking 
on  me  as  a  wild  American,  who,  with  bowie- 
knife  in  hand,  was  about  to  commit  a  horrible 
murder.  Meanwhile  Sothern  had  quietly  sent 
me  a  note  telling  me  to  slip  into  his  dressing- 
room  again,  get  some  '  stage  blood '  there,  lock 
the  door,  and  that  as  soon  as  he  came  off  we 
would  have  a  'time.'  I  followed  the  instruc- 
tions, and  after  the  act  he  came  down  and 
joined  me.    The  people  in  the  green-room  were 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  55 

on  the  alert,  and  between  Sothern  and  myself 
we  gave  their  listening  ears  the  benefit  of  a 
full  chorus  of  moans,  groans,  imprecations, 
struggles,  and  other  sounds  of  distress,  among 
which  every  now  and  then  my  knife  could  be 
heard  sticking  into  some  conveniently  soft 
substance    that    sounded   very    like    a    human 

body.    ,  whose  remarks  had  been  the  cause 

of  all  this  commotion,  frightened  almost  to 
death,  rushed  after  the  gendarmes.  When 
the  latter  came  they  demanded  entrance  in 
French.  A  low  groan  was  the  only  response. 
Believing  that  one  or  both  of  us  must  be  nearly 

dead,  they  burst  open  the  door.    was  the 

first  man  to  rush  in,  and  was  followed  by  the 
officials  and  such  of  the  company  as  were  not 
on  the  stage.  You  can  imagine  their  feelings 
when  they  saw  Sothern  and  myself,  covered 
with  blood,  lying  upon  the  floor,  with  the  gory 
knife  near  by,  the  entire  apartment  in  con- 
fusion and  bearing  evidence  of  a  desperate 
struggle. 

"  '  Poor  fellow ! '  said  onCj  '  does  his  pulse 
beat?'  'He  must  be  dying!'  was  the  remark 
of  another.  '  Go  for  a  stretcher.'  '  What 
awful  fighters  these  Americans  are ! '  and  other 
similar  expressions  were  also  to  be  heard. 

" ,  with  a  horror-stricken  face,  stooped 

over  and  touched  Sothern,  who  partially  raised 
his  head,  and  feebly  whispered,  '  A  glass  of 


56  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

champagne — quick ! '  This  was  immediately 
given  him,  and  then  I  lifted  my  head,  and  in  a 
faint  kind  of  way  ejaculated,  '  Some  wine, 
too ! '  Then  we  both  rose  up  on  our  elbows 
and  asked  for  more  wine,  and  from  that  posi- 
tion to  our  feet,  until  finally,  with  a  hearty 
laugh  at  the  success  of  our  joke,  we  invited 
the  whole  party  to  join  us  in  a  potation.  The 
practical  gendarmes  did  not  see  any  fun  in 
being  '  sold '  in  this  manner,  although  they 
took  their  share  of  the  champagne,  and  I  think 
that  some  of  the  English  actors  themselves 
never,  to  this  day,  have  learned  to  appreciate 
the  pranks  of  the  two  '  Americans.' " 

In  England — both  in  London  and  in  the 
country — the  popularity  of  Lord  Dundreary 
seemed  to  be  inexhaustible,  and,  notwithstand- 
ing the  great  successes  that  Sothern  made  in 
other  pieces,  "  Our  American  Cousin "  was 
constantly  reproduced  at  the  Haymarket,  and 
in  America,  I  believe,  never  lost  its  charm. 
Concerning  one  of  the  London  revivals,  the 
Times  said: 

"  There  are  some  persons  who  enjoy,  if  not 
a  perpetual,  at  least  a  remarkable  youth. 
Such  persons  reappear  among  their  friends 
after  a  few  years'  absence,  and  everybody  is 
astonished  to  find  how  young  they  are  look- 
ing, in  impudent  defiance  of  the  parish  regis- 
trv  of  births.     To  the  category  of  people  thus 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  57 

privileged,  that  distinguished  noble,  Lord 
Dundreary,  having  attained  in  London  the 
enormous  age  of  nearly  nine  theatrical  years  " 
(it  will  be  seen  that  this  was  one  of  the  early 
revivals),  "and  thus  aged  himself  into  a  tra- 
dition, unquestionably  belongs.  On  the  11th 
of  November,  1861,  he  made  his  first  bow  to  the 
British  public;  he  floated  gaily  through  the 
'  exhibition  year '  as  one  of  the  lions  of  that 
populous  period,  and  here  he  is,  in  1870,  look- 
ing as  fresh  as  ever,  drawing  crowds  to  the 
Haymarket  with  as  much  attractive  force  as 
the  newest  novelty  could  command. 

"  The  fact  must  be  taken  into  consideration 
that  everything  is  new  to  those  who  have  not 
seen  it,  and  that  to  the  travelling  cockney  who 
surveys  the  world  from  a  subjective  stand- 
point, the  pyramids  of  Egypt  are  infinitely 
more  modern  than  the  Monument  on  Fish- 
street  Hill.  As  there  came  a  Pharaoh  who 
knew  not  Joseph,  so  there  has  sprung  up  a 
race  to  whom  Lord  Dundreary  is  a  figure  of 
the  past.  The  descendants  of  Joseph  cer- 
tainly derived  no  immediately  perceptible 
benefit  from  the  ignorance  of  the  new  Pharaoh, 
but  it  might  have  been  otherwise  if  Joseph 
himself  had  lived  on,  and  Mr.  Sothern  enjoys 
the  advantage  of  being  the  Joseph  alike  of  the 
past  and  the  present. 

"  Be  it  remarked,  however,  that  Lord  Dun- 


58  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

dreary,  although  a  pronounced  aristocrat,  is 
by  no  means  an  obstinate  Conservative.  He 
moves  with  the  times,  and,  while  he  aims  to 
please  those  who  never  saw  him  before,  he 
laudably  and  successfully  endeavours  to  retain 
his  popularity  with  those  to  whom  he  has  been 
long  familiar.  He  drops  many  of  his  old 
jokes,  and  he  introduces  fresh  pleasantries, 
verbal  and  practical,  at  pleasure,  so  that  his 
oldest  acquaintance  behold  and  hear  him  do- 
ing and  saying  new  things.  Those  who 
patronised  him  in  1861  did  not  then  hear  him 
sing  the  lyrical  panegyric  of  his  Brother  Sam 
who  now  brings  his  first  act  to  a  mirthful  con- 
clusion, nor  were  they  then  made  acquainted 
with  the  somewhat  pantomimic  humour  of  the 
bedroom  scene.  The  letter  from  the  absent 
brother,  of  course,  keeps  its  place  as  a  piece 
de  resistance,  and  is  nightly  encored  some  four 
or  five  times.  For  this  freedom  of  interpola- 
tion and  omission  Mr.  Sothern  derives  full 
scope  from  the  utter  badness  of  the  piece  which 
he  illumines,  '  bright  as  a  star  when  only  one 
is  shining  in  the  sky.'  The  character  of  Lord 
Dundreary,  though  its  details  judiciously 
vary,  holds  its  own  as  a  unique  creation." 

With  Sothern  this  quaintly  conceived  and 
marvellously  elaborated  conception  died.  It 
is  true  that  his  clever  and  handsome  son — poor 
Lytton  Sothern — whose  early  death  still  leaves 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  59 

an  unhealed  sore  in  the  memories  of  those  who 
knew  and  cared  for  him,  played  the  part  with 
some  degree  of  success;  but  though  the  imita- 
tion was  almost  exact,  an  indescribable 
"  something  "  was  wanting,  and  one  could  not 
but  feel  that  a  "  claimant "  had  arisen  for  a 
title  that  was  extinct. 

Those  early  Haymarket  days  must  have  been 
a  wonderful  change  to  the  still  young  actor, 
who,  in  English  provincial  towns  and  in 
America,  had  fought  so  hard  a  fight.  From 
the  overworked  member  of  the  stock  company, 
with  any  number  of  parts  to  study,  and  in- 
numerable slights  to  submit  to,  to  suddenly 
become  the  leading  light  of  successive  London 
seasons,  with  only  one  character  to  delineate, 
would  have  turned  the  head  of  many  an  actor; 
but  Sothern  had  the  true  stuff  in  him,  and 
long  before  the  phenomenal  popularity  of 
Dundrem-y  showed  the  least  sign  of  waning  he 
was  busy  with  other  parts.  The  second  char- 
acter in  which  he  appeared  on  the  London 
stage  was  in  a  little  piece  which  he  had  him- 
self adapted  from  the  French,  and  which  he 
called  ''  My  Aunt's  Advice  " ;  and  this  was  fol- 
lowed by  his  clever  impersonation  of  Captain 
Walter  May  dentin  sh  in  "  The  Little  Treasure  " 
(an  event  made  memorable  in  the  annals  of 
the  English  stage,  inasmuch  as  it  is  associated 
with  one  of  the  earliest  successes  of  Miss  Ellen 


6o  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Terry,  who  was  the  fascinating  little  Gertrude 
of  those  days),  and  a  species  of  monologue 
entertainment  entitled  "  Bunkum  Muller." 
In  all  of  these  he  was  good,  and  the  production 
of  the  little  pieces  enabled  critics  to  see  that 
he  was  not  merely  a  one-part  player;  but  they 
were  only  passing  efforts  which  served  to 
keep  his  hand  in  while  the  drawing  powers  of 
"  Our  American  Cousin  "  were  at  their  height. 
The  question  of  a  successor  to  that  play  was 
a  subject  for  the  most  anxious  deliberation. 
Sothern,  himself,  was  most  anxious  to  appear 
in  a  piece  of  a  serious  type  (to  the  end  of  his 
days  he  never  forgot  his  success — I  believe  that 
it  was  the  one  of  which  he  was  most  proud — 
in  "La  Dame  aux  Camillas"),  but  his  Eng- 
lish friends  advised  him  that  for  the  present 
he  could  only  be  accepted  as  a  "  character " 
actor,  and  it  was  not  until  Tom  Robertson  ap- 
peared with  his  delightful  version  of  "  Sulli- 
van," entitled  "  David  Garrick,"  that  a  sort 
of  compromise  was  effected.  Sothern  ex- 
pected to  make  an  enormous  success  out  of 
the  opportunities  for  earnest  acting  that  the 
first  and  third  acts  afforded,  and  his  well- 
wishers  felt  certain  that  he  would  do  wonders 
with  the  subsequently  world-famous  scene  of 
simulated  intoxication. 

The  history  of  this  pleasant  comedy,  which 
still  holds  the  stage,  and  out  of  which  so  much 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  6i 

money  has  been  made,  is  a  curious  one.  Rob- 
ertson's original  adaptation  was,  according  to 
Sothern's  own  account  of  it,  a  very  rough  one, 
and  it  was  sold  to  a  dramatic  publisher  for 
the  modest  sum  of  £10.  No  one  feeling  dis- 
posed to  produce  it,  it  was  for  a  period  of  eight 
years  "  pigeon-holed,"  and  it  was  through  a 
chance  conversation  with  the  adapter, — and 
subsequently  most  brilliant  of  modern-day 
English  dramatists, — that  Sothern  heard  of 
the  plot,  took  a  fancy  to  it,  and  decided  that 
Garrick  should  be  the  successor  of  Dundreary. 
Prior  to  its  London  production,  the  play  was 
tentatively  performed  at  the  Prince  of  Wales 
Theatre,  Birmingham;  and  after  it  was  over, 
Sothern,  who  was  most  keenly  anxious  about 
his  new  part,  and  never  satisfied  with  his  own 
acting,  emphatically  declared  that  the  whole 
thing  was  a  failure,  and,  as  far  as  he  was  con- 
cerned, would  never  be  heard  of  again.  Luck- 
ily, his  own  judgment  was  overruled  by  that 
of  his  friends  and  advisers,  and,  as  every  play- 
goer knows,  Garrick  became  one  of  the  most 
successful  of  his  impersonations.  No  doubt  the 
wonderful  drunken  scene,  clever  in  its  con- 
ception and  perfect  in  its  detail,  was  the  great 
feature  of  the  piece;  but  though  some  critics 
took  exception  to  his  acting,  in  the  love-scenes 
with  Ada  Ingot,  he  gained  in  them  a  multitude 
of  devoted  admirers.     Generally  willing  to  ac- 


62  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

cept  the  verdict  of  the  press,  Sothern  was  al- 
ways rather  sore  with  regard  to  this  alleged 
defect  in  his  performance,  and  I  very  well  re- 
member how,  on  one  occasion,  when,  on  his 
benefit  night  in  a  provincial  town,  he  made 
one  of  those  little  before-the-curtain  speeches 
for  which  he  was  famous,  he  said :  "  The  local 
critics  have  unanimously  declared  that,  un- 
fortunately for  my  career  as  an  actor,  my 
voice  is  wholly  unsuited  to  '  love-making.' 
With  some  compunction,  and  with  my  hand 
appropriately  placed  on  my  heart,  I  should 
like  to  inform  those  gentlemen  that,  following 
in  private  life  that  most  agreeable  of  pursuits, 
I  find  that  I  get  on  as  well  as  most  people! " 

When  "  David  Garrick  "  was  first  produced 
in  London,  Sothern  (still  thinking  that  he  had 
made  a  failure)  generously  declared  that  the 
piece  was  saved  by  the  exquisite  acting  of  Miss 
Nellie  Moore  in  the  character  of  Ada  Ingot; 
but  long  after  that  charming  young  actress 
was  dead  it  drew  enthusiastic  audiences,  and 
Mr.  Charles  Wyndham  has  recently  shown  that 
it  still  has  abundant  vitality.  Other  actors, 
and  notably  Mr.  Edward  Compton,  have  also 
successfully  played  this  difficult  but  effective 
part.  Sothern,  however,  was  its  creator,  and, 
surely,  his  finished  and  most  artistic  perform- 
ance will  live  in  the  history  of  the  stage. 

The  next  Haymarket  production  in  which  he 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  63 

appeared  was  a  clever  but  not  very  long-lived 
play  by  Mr.  Watts  Phillips,  entitled  "The 
Woman  in  Mauve  " ;  and  then  came  a  "  happy 
thought."  Although  the  popularity  of  Dun- 
dreary was  by  no  means  exhausted,  it  was, 
from  a  managerial  point  of  view,  very  im- 
portant that  he  should  "  rest "  for  awhile ;  and 
who,  with  playgoers,  could  fill  his  place  so 
suitably  as  that  Brother  Sam  whose  famous 
letter  had  been  read  so  often,  and  whose  name 
was  already  as  familiar  in  their  mouths  as 
household  words?  For  this  character  Sothern 
had  already  found  his  type  in  a  man  who, 
while  only  possessed  of  some  £400  a  year, 
managed,  without  the  remotest  blemish  on  his 
name,  to  live  at  the  rate  of  £5000  or  £6000  a 
year.  The  task  of  writing  the  piece  was  en- 
trusted to  the  late  John  Oxenford,  and  under 
the  brightest  of  auspices  Sam  made  his  appear- 
ance on  the  Haymarket  boards.  Once  more 
the  ease  and  excellence  of  Sothern's  acting, 
his  faultless  dress,  and  his  effective  "  make- 
up," were  the  talk  of  the  town,  and  the  inter- 
est in  the  new  character  was  ingeniously  kept 
alive  by  reason  of  the  cleverly  conceived  con- 
trast between  the  appearance  and  personal 
traits  of  the  stage  brothers. 

The  elegant  and  deliberate  Dundreary  was 
as  dark  as  hair-dye  could  make  him,  and  the 
impediment  in  his  speech  had  been  more  than 


64  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

half  his  fortune:  the  Eon.  Sam  Slingsdy  was 
as  light  in  apparel,  complexion,  and  bearing  as 
a  feather  from  a  dove's  wing,  while  in  speech 
he  was  as  rapid  as  ever  was  the  voluble  Charles 
Mathews  in  farces  of  the  type  of  "  Patter 
versus  Clatter."  Sam's  ready  impudence  and 
polished  manner  secured  a  host  of  friends  and 
admirers,  and  once  more  genuine  success  was 
secured. 

But  the  younger  brother  could  hardly  expect 
to  have  as  many  devoted  followers  as  the 
bearer  of  the  family  title,  and,  amusing  com- 
pany though  he  was,  his  popularity  in  due 
course  waned,  and  in  about  twelve  months' 
time  he  made  way  for  Frank  Annerly  in  Dr. 
Westland  Marston's  brilliant  comedy,  "  The 
Favourite  of  Fortune."  How  good  Sothern 
was  in  this  part  many  will  remember.  The 
character  was  a  happy  medium  between  the 
handsome,  sentimental  heroes  that  he  always 
wanted  to  represent,  and  the  finished  comedy 
studies  in  which  he  excelled.  No  doubt  the 
audience  liked  Frank  Annerly  best  when,  in 
cynical  mood,  he  dealt  with  the  apparent  faith- 
lessness of  poor  Hester  Lorrington  and  the 
worldliness  of  her  friends,  and,  with  irresisti- 
ble precision,  made  point  after  point  in  the 
clever  dialogue  of  the  piece;  but  I  am  quite 
sure  that  Sothern  enjoyed  himself  most  when, 
at  the  end  of  the  first  act,  he  was  the  recipient 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  65 

of  the  cheers  of  the  supernumeraries  whom  he 
was  supposed,  in  the  most  dashing  manner, 
to  have  rescued  from  a  watery  grave.  Those 
were  (as  such  cheers  always  are)  re-echoed  by 
the  audience,  and,  elated  by  them,  Sothern, 
the  greatest  character  delineator  of  his  day, 
and  then,  on  account  of  his  great  success,  his 
own  master,  once  more  imagined  himself  the 
ideal  stage-lover. 

And  so  it  came  about  that,  after  an  interval 
of  nearly  fifteen  years,  he  again  essayed  the 
character  of  Claude  Melnotte. 

In  the  peasant's  dress,  the  handsome  cos- 
tumes of  the  supposed  Prince  of  Como,  and  the 
uniform  of  the  French  Colonel,  he  looked  the 
part  to  perfection;  but,  although  on  the  oc- 
casion of  the  first  performance  (it  was  at  the 
Theatre  Royal,  Birmingham,  for  the  benefit  of 
his  old  friend,  Mr.  J.  C.  Smith,  and  Mrs.  Ken- 
dal, then  Miss  Madge  Robertson,  was  the  most 
effective  and  fascinating  of  Paulines)  the  piece 
went  admirably,  and  the  applause  at  the  end 
of  each  act  was  deafening,  Sothern's  acting 
fell  far  short  of  his  conception  of  the  char- 
acter. It  was  a  curious  result,  for  he  attacked 
the  part  with  enthusiasm;  he  longed  for  un- 
qualified success,  and  he  had  (a  rare  thing  in 
him)  unlimited  confidence  in  himself;  but 
somehow  the  performance  lacked  the  true 
ring.    I  cannot,  perhaps,  better  show  what  was 


66  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

the  one  thing  wanting  than  by  saying  that 
when,  in  the  last  act,  with  Pauline  in  his  arms, 
he  spoke  the  lines — 

"  Look  up !     Look  up,  Pauline !  for  I  can  bear 
Thine  eyes!     The  stain  is  blotted  from  my  name. 
I  have   redeem'd  mine  honour.     I   can   call 
On  France  to  sanction  thy  divine  forgiveness! 
Oh,  joy!     Oh,  rapture!     By  the  midnight  watch- 
fires 
Thus  have  I  seen  thee!  thus  foretold  this  hour! 
And  'midst  the  roar  of  battle,  thus  have  heard 
The  beating  of  thy  heart  against  my  own !  " 

he  delivered  them  (although  I  am  convinced 
that  he  felt  every  word  of  them)  in  precisely 
the  same  fashion  as  when,  in  mock  earnest- 
ness, he  had,  with  slight  alterations,  to  give 
utterance  to  them  as  Sir  Hugh  de  Brass  (one 
of  his  best  parts)  in  the  farce  called  "  A  Regu- 
lar Fix."  How  wonderfully  true,  even  after 
the  lapse  of  these  years,  was  the  already  quoted 
criticism  of  Charles  Kean: 

"  I  thought  your  acting  in  '  Used  Up ' 
very  good  indeed,  but  in  Claude  Melnotte  it 
suggested  itself  to  me  that  you  occasionally 
'  preached '  too  much  instead  of  giving  vent  to 
the  impulse  of  the  character." 

Strive  though  he  did,  Sothern  was  never  able 
to  make  a  real  success  in  "  The  Lady  of 
Lyons  " ;  but  in  the  "  Charles  Mathews  "  char- 
acters to  be  found  in  such  pieces  as  "  Used 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  67 

Up "  and  "  A  Regular  Fix,"  he  was  ever  ad- 
mirable. I  remember  on  that  first  appearance 
as  Claude  Melnotte  he  did  a  thing  that  for 
some  moments  put  in  jeopardy  the  whole  per- 
formance. In  the  second  act,  where  Colonel 
Dames  tests  the  masquerading  Prince  of  Como 
by  addressing  him  in  the  Italian  language,  and 
Claude  ought  only  to  reply  with  a  puzzled 
"  Hem — hem,"  and  "  What  does  he  mean,  I 
wonder  ?  "  Sothern  permitted  himself  to  drop 
into  his  lightest  manner,  and  even  to  indulge 
in  some  "  Dundrearyisms,"  saying,  "  Yes,  that 
is  d — d  funny,"  and  so  on.  The  audience,  rec- 
ognising the  method  of  an  old  friend  and 
favourite,  roared  with  laughter,  and  it  was 
some  time  before  the  rash  actor  could  again 
secure  hushed  attention. 

Still  believing  himself  to  be  a  perfect 
Claude,  Sothern  persevered  with  the  part,  un- 
til a  country  critic,  who  meant  to  be  both 
friendly  and  complimentary,  said  that  until 
he  had  undertaken  it  no  one  had  quite  appre- 
ciated its  humour!  This,  as  he  himself  said, 
was  a  "  crusher,"  and,  with  a  groan,  the  peas- 
ant's, the  prince's,  and  the  colonel's  costumes 
were  permanently  consigned  to  the  wardrobe. 

In  December,  1866,  Sothern  appeared  at  the 
Haymarket  as  Harry  Vivian,  in  a  three-act 
comedy  by  Tom  Taylor,  entitled  ''  A  Lesson  for 
Life."    It  was  a  pleasant  part,  which  made  no 


68  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

very  great  demand  upon  his  powers,  but  in 
which  he  was  able,  even  more  conclusively  than 
before,  to  prove  that  he,  before  all  the  actors 
of  his  day,  was  able  to  portray  the  easy  man- 
ners of  the  perfect  English  gentleman.  In 
speaking  of  this  performance,  an  eminent 
critic  said :  "  As  an  earnest  student  in  his  pro- 
fession, Mr.  Sothern  has  worked  with  a  zeal 
which  has  rarely  been  excelled.  The  promi- 
nent characteristic  of  his  style  is  the  air  of 
modern  refinement  with  which  he  surrounds 
the  personage  represented.  There  is  nothing 
conventional  about  his  movements,  nothing 
which  belongs  to  the  stilted  mannerisms  of  the 
past  school  of  histrionic  art.  We  have  the  pol- 
ished ease  of  good  society  faithfully  illustrated, 
the  reality  of  nature  in  place  of  the  artificiality 
of  the  stage,  and  a  life-like  portrait  painted  in 
vivid  colours  as  an  acceptable  substitute  for 
the  faded  caricature  which  has  too  often  passed 
current  with  hasty  observers  for  the  semblance 
of  a  gentleman." 

"  A  Lesson  for  Life "  was  followed  by  ap- 
pearances as  Robert  Devlin  in  "  A  Wild 
Goose,"  and  Albert  Bressange  in  "  A  Wife  Well 
Won  " ;  but  though,  concerning  the  latter  piece, 
Sothern  (who  strongly  fancied  his  part  in  it) 
wrote,  "  The  Prince  of  Wales  told  me  he  was 
charmed  with  it,"  neither  play  ran  long,  and 
in  neither  did  he  materially  add  to  his  reputa- 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  69 

tion.  "  A  Wife  Well  Won  "  will,  however,  be 
vividly  remembered  by  all  who  saw  it,  for  in 
it  Miss  Madge  Robertson,  then  on  the  thresh- 
old of  her  brilliant  career,  played  its  girlish 
heroine  in  a  manner  so  captivating  as  to  be 
absolutely  irresistible.  Sothern  always  used 
to  speak  of  it  as  the  most  charming  impersona- 
tion he  had  seen. 

At  about  this  time  a  play  that  would  really 
hold  the  stage  in  "  Our  American  Cousin," 
"  David  Garrick,"  or  even  "  Brother  Sam " 
fashion,  was  eagerly  sought  at  the  Haymarket, 
and  after  much  deliberation  a  strong,  and,  as 
it  proved,  successful  bid  for  popularity  was 
made  in  the  production  of  Dr.  Westland  Mars- 
ton's  adaptation  of  Mons.  Octave  Feuillet's 
"  Roman  d'un  Jeune  Homme  Pauvre,"  entitled 
(Sothern,  surely,  had  something  to  do  with  the 
selection  of  the  English  name?)  "A  Hero  of 
Romance."  In  this,  as  Yictor,  Marquis  de 
Tourville,  the  energetic  actor  gained  great 
popularity  in  the  direction  in  which  he  had 
always  aimed.  Never  was  a  more  interesting 
personage  than  this  ruined  young  Marquis, 
I)erformiug  the  duties  of  steward  in  the  par- 
venu family  of  the  haughty  young  lady  of  his 
love,  seen  upon  the  stage.  What  a  thrill  went 
through  the  audience  when  the  gallant  youth 
quitted  the  stage  and  ("off")  conquered  in  a 
few  moments  the  unheard-of  vices  of  that  sing- 


70  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

ularly  unmanageable  horse  "  Black  Harry  " ; 
what  sympathy  was  accorded  him  when  he  sub- 
missively bore  the  taunts  of  proud  and  un- 
yielding beauty ;  what  a  sensation  there  was  in 
the  house  when,  in  order  to  save  his  own  hon- 
our and  her  reputation,  he  rushed  "  three  steps 
at  a  time  "  up  the  ruined  tower,  and,  by  the 
light  of  a  pale  moon,  recklessly  flung  himself 
from  its  dizzy  height  on  to  the  yawning  feather- 
bed in  the  unseen  depths  below ;  and  how  copi- 
ously the  tears  fell  when,  exquisitely  dressed 
in  a  perfectly  fitting  seal-skin  trimmed  coat, 
the  like  of  which  had  never  been  seen  before 
(and  which  no  one  but  the  Sothern  of  those 
days  dare  have  worn),  he  burnt  the  will  in  the 
candle,  dedicating  the  sacrifice  to  his  past 
love,  and  subsequently  receiving  in  the  hand 
of  the  arrogant  young  lady  the  just  reward 
of  his  manly  virtue !  "  A  Hero  of  Komance  " 
became  the  hero  of  his  day,  and  when  the  piece 
was  brought  into  the  provinces  young  women 
lost  their  hearts  to  him,  and  young  men,  at 
penny  readings,  burnt  foolscap  wills  in  inex- 
pensive candles,  but,  since  they  had  not  facili- 
ties for  the  leap  from  the  tower,  and  could  not 
treat  themselves  to  collars  and  cuffs  of  seal- 
skin, achieved  only  half  success.  I  do  not 
think  that  Victor,  Marquis  de  Tourville,  was 
the  best  thing  that  Sothern  did  in  this  way, 
but  it  was  theatrically  the  most  effective,  and 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  71 

is,   consequently,  ranked   amongst   his   list   of 
triumphs. 

The  next  Haymarket  production  was 
"  Home,"  the  clever  adaptation  by  his  friend, 
Tom  Robertson,  of  Emile  Augier's  "  L'Aven- 
turi6re,"  and  in  it  solid  success  was  once  more 
gained.  As  his  part  was  not  a  "  romantic " 
one,  Sothern  was  very  doubtful  concerning  it, 
but  after  its  production  he  wrote,  "  'Home '  is 
a  great  hit — every  one  giving  me  far  more 
praise  than  I  deserve.  I  played  so  nervously 
the  first  night  that  I  fully  expected  a  cutting-up 
in  the  papers.  However,  the  public  is  satis- 
fied, and  I  always  acknowledge  the  verdict  it 
gives,  pro  or  con."  "  Home "  had  a  highly 
satisfactory  run  in  London,  and  by  his  imper- 
sonation of  Colonel  John  White,  Sothern  un- 
doubtedly added  to  his  laurels  both  in  England 
and  America.  One  of  the  great  attractions  of 
the  piece  was  a  "  love-scene,"  of  which  Sothern 
subsequently  claimed  to  be  the  author.  Cer 
tainly — for  it  was  to  a  certain  degree  written 
upon  Dundreary  lines — he  played  it  to 
perfection. 

While  this  pretty  play  was  at  the  height  of 
its  popularity  there  seemed  to  come  the  prom- 
ise of  great  things.  "  I  've  a  great  part,"  he 
wrote.  "  I  expect  another  Dundreary  success 
in  my  next  piece,  which  I  shall  try  in  Bir- 
mingham."    This  part  was  Sir  Simon  Simple, 


72  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

in  H.  J.  Byron's  "  Not  Such  a  Fool  as  He 
Looks."  He  did  try  it  in  Birmingham,  and, 
wonderfully  made  up  in  a  wig  so  flaxen  that 
it  was  almost  white,  and  presenting  a  clean- 
shaven and  boyish  face,  with  an  entirely  novel 
break  in  the  voice  that  was  as  natural  as 
it  was  effective,  he  scored  a  splendid  first  night 
success.  According  to  his  wont,  however,  he 
was  dissatisfied,  and  declared  that  both  piece 
and  part  must  be  altered.  This  the  author, 
having  faith  in  his  work,  declined  to  do.  "  By- 
ron demands  '  Sir  Simon  Simple'"  (it  was,  by 
the  way,  under  this  title  that  he  produced  the 
piece)  "  back  again,"  he  wrote  a  few  weeks 
later  on.  "  I  'm  not  sorry,  though  it 's  a  lot 
of  work  thrown  away."  How  Byron  himself 
made  the  part  popular  in  London  every  one 
knows,  and  subsequently  Sothern  recognised 
the  fact  that  he  had  thrown  away  a  chance. 
Again,  though  later  on,  he  wrote,  "  I  am  about 
to  produce  another  comedy,  '  Birth,'  by  Tom 
Robertson.  I've  much  faith  in  it, — a  pretty 
plot,  and  my  part  peculiar  and  original."  This 
he  played  in  several  provincial  towns,  and  the 
audiences  heartily  endorsed  his  privately  ex- 
pressed opinion;  but  although  after  the  first 
performance  he  telegraphed,  "  '  Birth  '  a  genu- 
ine HIT,"  he  again  suffered  from  want  of  confi- 
dence, and  abandoned  a  piece  in  which  he  would 
have  probably  achieved  a  lasting  success. 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  73 

The  next  Haymarket  production  in  which 
Sothern  appeared  was  the  two-act  comedy  by 
H.  T.  Craven  (according  to  his  custom  this, 
too,  had  been  previously  tried  in  the  provinces), 
entitled  "  Barwise's  Book,"  and  in  it,  for  the 
first  time  since  his  great  successes,  he  as- 
sumed what  may  fairly  be  called  (although 
from  first  to  last  the  piece,  in  tone  and  treat- 
ment, was  comic)  the  character  of  "  stage  vil- 
lain." The  experiment  is  noteworthy,  and 
deserves  description. 

"  In  Charles  Mulcraft,"  said  a  critic,  "  Mr. 
Sothern  has  a  character  somewhat  different 
from  any  that  he  has  hitherto  attempted:  his 
personations  have  been  usually  of  amiable  if 
not  excellent  fellows — for  even  for  Dundreary, 
selfish  as  he  is,  one  cannot  but  entertain  a 
certain  sneaking  kindness.  Mulcraft,  how- 
ever, is  a  piece  of  cool  and  superficial  selfish- 
ness, without  a  single  spark  of  principle  or 
generosity;  yet  in  manners  and  style  a  gentle- 
man, and  quite  unlike  the  common  theatrical 
villain  and  plotter.  He  commits  forgery  as  if 
there  were  no  offence  in  it ;  and  as  he  sins  with- 
out compunction,  discovery  brings  to  him  re- 
gret at  being  discovered,  without  a  shade  of 
remorse  for  having  sinned.  The  conception  of 
such  a  character  is  decidedly  original ;  it  loses 
nothing  in  being  worked  out  by  Mr.  Sothern. 
To  live  a  gay,  easy,  showy,  idle  life,  of  the 


74  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

pleasures  of  which  he  has  a  keen  appreciation, 
is  Mulcraft's  best  philosophy;  to  obtain  the 
means  of  so  doing  he  is  ready  to  sacrifice  all 
the  moralities,  and  without  feeling  or  person- 
ally making  any  sacrifice  in  so  doing.  The 
end,  if  only  it  be  attained,  is  to  him  complete 
justification  of  the  means.  He  is  a  type — 
which  might  be  worked  up  even  more  highly 
than  the  author  has  done  in  the  present  case 
— of  the  perfectly  presentable  nineteenth-cen- 
tury Bohemian;  the  whited  sepulchre  of  mod- 
ern society — gorgeous  without,  but  empty  and 
contemptible  within.  He  is  not  even  a  pro- 
fessor of  virtue;  the  substantiality  of  means, 
and  an  outer  coating  of  respectability  suffices 
him;  his  soul,  if  he  have  a  soul,  is  therewith 
content.  Mr.  Sothern  presents  the  shallow 
rogue — who  never,  to  give  him  his  due,  pre- 
tends or  attempts  depth — with  the  fidelity  of 
a  photograph;  giving  bare  fact,  without  appeal 
to  sympathy,  either  approbative  or  reproba- 
tory.  He  is  dressed  in  the  extravagance  of 
modern  fashion — extravagance  without  vul- 
garity, except  in  so  far  as  high  fashion  is  al- 
ways vulgar;  and  one  confesses,  on  seeing  and 
hearing  him  for  the  two  hours  which  the  piece 
lasts,  that — except  that  few  even  of  such  char- 
acters would  go  the  length  of  forgery — the 
portrait  is  a  fair  reflection  of  many  men  of  the 
time.     His  doings  and  character  scarcely  ex- 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  75 

cite  any  emotion  beyond  a  sort  of  amazed  con- 
tempt; he  is  a  fellow  to  whom  one  would  pre- 
fer giving  a  wide  berth,  but  on  whom  moral 
indignation  would  be  utterly  thrown  away. 
Mr.  Sothern  confines  himself  within  the  limits 
of  the  character  with  admirable  self-command; 
he  is  neither  tempted  on  the  one  hand  to  lead 
us  to  despise  Mulcraft  by  making  him  a  clev- 
erer villain  than  he  is,  nor  on  the  other  to 
excuse  his  villainy  by  making  him  more  than 
superficially  attractive.  It  is  a  part  in  which 
there  is  much  more  talent  than  meets  the  eye; 
only  an  actor  who  has  latent  power  of  a  very 
high  order  could  afford  to  sink  so  much  of  it 
in  the  elaboration  of  a  character  so  little 
stagey,  yet  so  cruelly  true  to  nature  of  an  arti- 
ficial order  as  this.  Of  course,  every  point  is 
wrought  up  to  perfection;  and  the  closeness 
with  which  the  audience  follows,  shows  how 
thoroughly  they  enjoy  Mr.  Sothern's  admira- 
bly-finished  acting." 

Clever  as  this  new  study  was,  "  Barwise's 
Book  "  was  too  slight  a  piece  for  a  prolonged 
run,  and  another  play,  tried  in  the  country,  was 
a  three-act  comedy,  by  Messrs.  Maddison  Mor- 
ton and  A.  W.  Young,  entitled  "  A  Threepenny 
Bit,"  in  which  Sothern  was  well  suited  as  a 
terribly  nervous  gentleman  named  Augustus 
Thrillington;  but  this  was  only  seen  in  Lon- 
don in  condensed  one-act  form,  under  the  new 


76  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

title  of  "Not  if  I  Know  It!"  At  about  this 
time,  too,  he  reappeared  (the  part  was  always 
a  favourite  one  with  him,  and  right  splendidly, 
in  his  handsome  dress,  he  bore  himself)  as  the 
amusing  hero  of  "■  The  Captain  of  the  Watch ;" 
but  the  next  important  Haymarket  production 
in  which  he  figured  was  H.  J.  Byron's  three- 
act  comedy  "  An  English  Gentleman."  Soth- 
ern's  part  in  this  (I  believe  that  Byron  had 
previously  played  it  himself,  then  calling  the 
piece  "  The  Last  Shilling ")  was  that  of 
Charles  Chuckles,  a  warm-hearted,  cool-headed, 
but  not  too  quick-witted  young  English  squire, 
who,  being  duped  by  impostors,  deems  it  a 
matter  of  honour  to  give  up  his  estates,  and 
who  having,  to  the  amazement  of  the  audience, 
done  many  eccentric  and  quixotic  things  while 
in  a  state  of  penury,  comes  to  his  own  again, 
and  marries  the  heroine,  just  in  the  nick  of 
time  for  the  fall  of  the  curtain.  In  describing 
the  character  as  a  "  cool-headed  "  one,  I  for- 
got, for  the  moment,  that  Sothern  caused 
Squire  Chuckles  to  appear  in  neatly  cropped 
flaming  red  hair.  The  make  up  was  both  new 
and  effective,  but  "  An  English  Gentleman " 
was  not  a  very  interesting  or  attractive  play, 
and  its  life  was  not  longer  than  its  deserts. 

The  eagerly  sought  "  Second  Dundreary 
success "  was  apparently  as  far  off  as  ever, 
when,    during    one    of    his    American    engage- 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  T] 

ments,  it  seemed  to  be  suddenly  found.  I  can- 
not help  thinking  that  it  was  because  the 
nervous  and  over-sensitive  Sothern  had  allowed 
Byron  to  make  the  success  as  Bir  Simon  Simple 
that,  but  for  his  want  of  confidence,  might  have 
been  his,  he  was  ever  ready  to  try  a  part  in 
which  Byron  had  gained  popularity.  Nothing 
could  have  seemed  more  out  of  Sothern's  some- 
what limited  range  than  the  character  of 
the  disappointed  provincial  tragedian,  Fitzalta 
mont,  which  Byron  had  created  at  the  Adel- 
phi,  in  March,  1870,  and  which  he  had  again 
portrayed  at  the  Strand,  in  October,  1872,  call- 
ing the  piece  in  which  it  was  the  central 
figure,  in  the  first  place,  "  The  Prompter's 
Box,"  and  in  the  second,  "  Two  Stars ;  or,  The 
Footlights  and  the  Fireside." 

Sothern  never  saw  the  piece  performed,  but 
of  course  he  knew  of  it,  and  when,  while  in 
Philadelphia,  a  friend  suggested  that  the  part 
would  suit  him,  he  at  once  telegraphed  to 
Byron  for  a  copy  of  it.  Having  received  and 
read  it,  the  idea  took  his  fancy,  and,  to  use 
bis  own  words,  "  It  appeared  to  me  that  if 
I  could  good-naturedly  satirise  the  old  school 
of  acting,  contrasting  it  through  the  several 
characters  with  the  present  school,  I  should 
arrive  at  the  same  effects  in  another  manner 
which  were  produced  in  Dundreary ;  that  is  to 
say,  that  though  stigmatised  by  everybody  as 


78  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

a  very  bad  tragedian,  I  should  gain  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  audience  in  the  satire,  however 
much  they  might  laugh  at  my  peculiarities. 
The  character  is  not  an  imitation  of  any  one 
actor  I  have  ever  seen.  I  have  simply  boiled 
down  all  the  old-school  tragedians  as  I  boiled 
down  all  the  fops  I  had  met  before  I  played 
Dundreary.  I  tested  the  piece  in  Philadel- 
phia, and  its  success  was  immediate.  In  my 
judgment,  '  The  Crushed  Tragedian,'  if  not 
the  best  part  in  my  repertory,  is  likely  to  com- 
mand popular  favour  at  once  wherever  it  is 
performed,  and  to  retain  its  hold  upon  the 
stage  for  many  years." 

In  view  of  the  reception  of  Sothern's  appear- 
ance in  this  character  in  London,  it  may  be 
instructive  to  glance  at  what  leading  Ameri- 
can critics  had  to  say  concerning  it.  It  is  as 
follows : 

"  Mr.  Sothern's  impersonation  of  Fitzalta- 
mont,  '  The  Crushed  Tragedian,'  is  the  more 
impressive  the  oftener  it  is  seen,  and  the  more 
attentively  it  is  studied.  To  fully  appreciate 
its  surpassing  merits  as  a  dramatic  realisa- 
tion, it  is  necessary  to  do  something  more  than 
look  and  laugh.  It  is  only  when  we  have  seen 
Mr.  Sothern's  performance  so  often  that  we 
can  forego  the  enjoyment  of  the  playgoer,  to 
watch  with  the  eyes  of  a  student,  that  the  ar- 
tistic power  of  the  creation  is  revealed.     Then, 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  79 

and  not  till  then,  do  we  begin  to  understand 
what  a  creation  his  Fitzaltamont  really  is. 

"  Much  has  been  said  of  the  wonderful  ver- 
satility of  the  actor  who  could,  from  Dtin- 
dreary,  transform  himself  with  such  magical 
completeness  into  that  utter  antithesis  of  the 
English  fop,  the  sombre,  misanthropic,  theat- 
rical Fitzaltamont;  but  this  versatility,  note- 
worthy as  it  is,  is  one  of  the  least  remarkable 
characteristics  of  the  impersonation.  The 
greatest  merit  of  his  Fitzaltamont  lies  in  this 
— that  out  of  a  mere  thing  of  threads  and 
patches,  out  of  a  stage  tradition,  a  conven- 
tional laughing-stock,  a  popular  butt,  he  has 
created  a  living,  sentient  human  being.  Into 
the  dry  bones  of  a  common  caricature  he  has 
breathed  vitality,  for  it  is  just  as  impossible 
not  to  recognise  in  the  '  Crushed '  a  fellow- 
being,  having  the  same  feelings  and  affections 
as  ourselves,  as  it  is  not  to  laugh  at  the  strange 
eccentricities  which  distinguish  him.  Fitz  is 
human  to  begin  with,  and  so  commands  our 
sympathies.  He  is  also  in  dead  earnest.  He 
believes  in  his  own  powers  with  all  his  might 
and  main.  His  vanity  is  equal  to  that  which 
consumed  the  heart  of  Malvolio,  and  his  vanity 
impels  him,  as  it  impelled  the  cross-gartered 
steward,  to  believe  anything  of  himself  and  his 
capacities.  From  some  reason  or  other,  Fitz- 
altamont has  taken  up  the  idea  that  he  is  a 


8o  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

tragic  genius,  and  he  believes  that  with  all 
his  heart  and  soul.  When  he  announces  him- 
self as  being  '  crushed/  it  is  with  the  utmost 
sincerity.  The  spectator  knows  better.  He 
knows  that  his  vanity  is  Fitzaltamonfs  stock- 
in-trade,  and  thus  the  character  becomes 
laughter-provoking. 

"  And  how  laughable  it  is,  only  those  who 
have  seen  Mr.  Sothern  play  it  can  form  an 
idea.  With  what  elaboration  of  detail  does 
the  actor  embody  his  conception!  There  is 
not  a  gesture,  not  an  intonation,  not  a  move- 
ment, but  it  seems  to  illustrate  the  character 
portrayed.  He  strides  across  the  stage,  and 
it  is  as  though  he  were  wading  through  a  sea 
of  gore ;  he  mutters  to  himself,  '  Ha !  ha ! '  and 
you  know  that  he  is  cursing  fate  with  a  bit- 
terness loud  and  deep;  he  scowls,  and  it  is 
plain  that  he  thinks  his  frown  is  as  majestic 
as  Olympian  Jove  himself;  he  flings  himself 
in  a  chair  as  though  wearied  with  such  a  con- 
tinual battling  with  destiny;  he  leans,  in  con- 
templation, against  the  mantelpiece,  and  it  is 
manifest  that  he  is  philosophically  pondering, 
a  la  '  Hamlet,'  upon  the  vanity  of  the  world, 
and  its  lack  of  appreciation  for  genius,  and 
always  and  in  all  things  poor  Fitzaltamont  is 
exquisitely,  indescribably  ludicrous. 

"  But,  whatever  he  says  or  does,  no  faintest 
suspicion  that  he  is  making  himself  ridiculous 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  8i 

ever  crosses  his  mind.  He  is  without  the  least 
scintilla  of  humour,  and,  acting  as  he  is  all 
the  time,  he  is  all  the  time  in  deadly  earnest. 
It  is  the  world  that  is  out  of  joint — not  he. 
Mr.  Sothern's  impersonation  of  '  The  Crushed 
Tragedian '  is  no  less  an  acquisition  to  the 
dramatic  world,  than  a  triumph  of  the  actor's 
talent." 

Another  well-known  American  writer  said: 
"  When  a  new,  distinct,  and  enjoyable  char- 
acter is  created  by  author  and  actor  for  the 
dramatic  stage,  it  has  good  title  to  take  rank 
among  other  works  of  art.  It  is  in  many  re- 
spects just  such  a  creation  as  an  accepted 
masterpiece  of  sculpture,  or  a  finished  paint- 
ing, or  a  grand  piece  of  music,  to  which  the 
cultivated  mind  pays  homage  of  admiration  for 
the  skill,  the  study,  the  talent,  or  the  genius 
displayed  in  the  achievement.  Something  like 
this  is  done  by  Mr.  Sothern  in  the  study  and 
representation  of  Fitzaliamont,  the  *  Crushed 
Tragedian.'  This  new  character  stands  out 
like  a  statue,  or  the  central  figure  of  a  lifelike 
picture.  It  is  not  only  distinct  from  all  others 
of  the  characters  with  which  our  dramas  are 
peopled,  but  it  is  as  opposite  as  possible  to 
Dundreary,  that  other  creation  of  Mr.  Sothern 
with  which  his  fame  as  a  dramatic  artist  is  so 
largely  identified,  and  there  is  not  the  faintest 
flavour  of  Mr.  Sothern's  own  individuality  in  it. 


82  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

"  It  is  not  our  purpose  to  describe  the 
'  Crushed  Tragedian.'  It  would  require  a 
good  deal  of  study  to  do  even  that  in  a  satis- 
factory way.  The  play  must  be  seen  and 
heard  to  be  understood,  and  it  will  be  the  bet- 
ter enjoyed  by  those  who  go  to  see  it  if  they 
have  no  detailed  description.  It  may  be  said, 
however,  that,  notwithstanding  the  *  dejected 
'haviour  of  the  visage '  of  Fitzaltamont,  and 
his  inky  habiliments,  very  seedy  and  baggy, 
and  the  many  set-backs  he  suffers  in  pursuing 
the  pet  ambition  of  his  life,  his  expression  of 
his  professional  woes  is  so  grotesque  and  ludi- 
crous that  the  audience  is  in  one  continuous 
strain  of  laughter  so  long  as  he  is  on  the 
stage." 

Concerning  this  new  success,  Sothern  wrote 
to  England :  "  '  The  Crushed  Tragedian '  is 
literally  a  tremendous  HIT.  Not  even  stand- 
ing-room ;  and  next  Saturday  will  be  our  fiftieth 
night.  Five  calls  nightly  after  the  fourth  act, 
and  all  purely  done  by  BUSINESS,  as  I  am 
not  on  the  stage  for  four  pages  until  the  end 
of  the  act.  It  has  neatly  '  walked  over '  Dun- 
dreary's head,  and  will  go  a  good  year  in  Lon- 
don. I  have  greatly  altered  the  piece  and 
rewritten  my  part  to  a  very  great  extent.  I 
have  gently  satirised  the  old  school  of  acting 
without  burlesquing  it.  In  short,  without 
egotism,  I  may  truly  tell  you  that  I  have  once 
more  '  struck  oil,'  as  they  say  in  America." 


Sothern  on  the  Stasre 


& 


That,  notwithstanding  Sothern's  high  hopes 
concerning  it,  "  The  Crushed  Tragedian  "  failed 
in  London,  is  now  a  matter  of  stage  history. 
It  was  first,  in  the  May  of  1878,  "tried"  in 
Birmingham,  and  the  keenness  of  his  disap- 
pointment at  the  Haymarket  must  have  been 
terribly  aggravated  by  the  enthusiasm  with 
which  his  performance  had  been  on  the  previ- 
ous night  received  by  his  old  friends  the 
provincial  playgoers.  Before  he  stepped  on 
to  the  Birmingham  boards  he,  in  his  usual 
nervous  way,  expressed  some  doubt.  "  The 
part  was  a  great  hit  in  America,"  he  said; 
"  but  the  question  is,  how  will  it  be  received 
in  England?"  The  Midlanders,  at  least, 
were  not  slow  to  answer  the  question.  The 
house  was  packed,  the  reception  of  Fitzalta- 
mont,  in  his  wonderful  dress  and  make-up, 
was  immense,  and  the  piece  and  the  impersona- 
tion were  received  with  boisterous  acclama- 
tion. The  judicious,  however,  shook  their 
heads,  and  it  was  a  significant  fact  that,  in  the 
leading  local  paper  of  the  next  day,  there  was 
no  notice  of  "  The  Crushed  Tragedian." 
When  the  performance  was  over,  I  went  round 
to  see  Sothern  and  to  take  him  home.  "  He 
has  just  gone,"  said  the  stage-door  keeper, 
"  and  he  told  me  to  tell  you  that  you  would 
find  him " — giving  me  a  card — "  at  this  ad 
dress."    Knowing  that  he  had  not  had  time  to 


84  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

change  his  dress,  I  thought  at  first  that  he  was 
playing  me  one  of  his  notorious  and  never- 
ending  practical  jokes;  but,  finding  that  he 
was  not  in  his  dressing-room,  I  went  to  the 
place  named,  and  there  I  found  him,  close  on 
midnight,  in  all  the  "  bravery "  of  "  The 
Crushed  Tragedian,"  as  "  The  Mammoth  Co- 
mique,"  being  photographed  under  the  blinding 
glare  of  the  electric  light!  It  was  a  curious 
sight,  and  one  that  I  am  unlikely  to  forget — 
the  wonderfully  painted  and  disguised  face, 
the  gaudy  and  exaggerated  costume,  the  care- 
fully studied  pose,  and  the  eager  and  excited 
interest  of  the  sitter!  With  this  quaint  com- 
panion I  returned  to  the  theatre,  that  he  might 
change  his  dress,  and  over  his  after-supper 
cigar  that  night  he  became  enthusiastic.  "  I 
have  got  my  second  Dundreary  success,"  he 
declared.  "  I  did  n't  know  how  '  Fitz  '  would 
go  in  England,  and,  mark  me,  this  means  five 
hundred  nights  at  the  Haymarket!"  Full  of 
assurance,  he  left  me  the  next  day  for  London ; 
in  the  evening  "  The  Crushed  Tragedian  "  was 
I>roduced  on  the  boards  that  had  witnessed 
Dundreary's  London  triumph,  and — well,  the 
fate  of  that  version  of  Byron's  play  is  well 
known. 

The  next  day  he  wrote,  "  An  organised  sys- 
tem to  d — n  the  piece.  Bows  of  hissers! 
We  '11  see  who  '11  win." 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  85 

We  know  now  who  won,  and  I  fear  that  the 
loss  of  the  game  told  heavily  on  poor  Soth- 
ern's  heart.  It  is  not  for  me  to  defend,  in  the 
face  of  abler  critics,  "  The  Crushed  Trage- 
dian,'' but  I  think  that  all  who  saw  the  imper- 
sonation will  allow  that  it  contained  many 
touches  by  no  means  unworthy  of  the  creator 
of  Dundreary.  It  was,  however,  "  caviare  to 
the  general,"  and,  as  a  matter  of  consequence, 
failed  to  attract. 

Of  it  a  well-known  writer  said :  "  Mr.  Soth- 
ern's  make-up  is  very  droll,  his  control  of  his 
voice  is  remarkable,  and  his  facial  play  is  in- 
describable. Had  he  played  the  role  he  as- 
sumes in  a  piece  of  half  the  length,  he  would 
have  obtained  a  conspicuous  triumph." 

In  America  Fitzaltamont  was  always  tri- 
umphant, and  an  extraordinary  lawsuit,  in 
which  he  was  the  defendant,  added  to  his  no- 
toriety and  popularity.  Count  Joannes,  once 
an  actor  of  the  old  school  of  which  Sothern 
made  fun,  and  subsequently  an  eccentric  law- 
yer, actually  brought  a  suit  to  stop  the  per- 
formance of  the  piece  on  the  ground  that 
Sothern's  make-up  maligned  him,  and  gener- 
ally burlesqued  his  identity. 

A  reporter  of  an  American  paper,  who  called 
on  Sothern  with  the  view  of  obtaining  informa- 
tion concerning  these  preposterous  and  abor- 
tive proceedings,  wrote  as  follows: 


86  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

"  Mr.  Sothern  had  just  driven  up,  and  was 
alighting  from  his  coupe  when  a  reporter 
reached  the  stage-door  of  the  Park  Theatre. 
As  the  '  Crushed  Tragedian '  was  to  come  on 
very  shortly,  he  invited  the  caller  to  go  into 
his  dressing-room  and  talk  with  him  while  he 
was  making-up.  He  had  not  heard  of  the 
Count's  proceedings,  and  was  inclined  to  dis- 
credit the  story.  '  It 's  some  joke,'  said  he, 
unbuttoning  his  shirt  collar  and  reading  a 
slip  of  newspaper  which  had  been  handed  to 
him,  containing  an  application  of  the  Count  to 
the  court.  '  Why,  I  never  saw  the  man  but 
once  in  my  life,  and  that  was  four  months 
after  I  began  the  "  Crushed  Tragedian."  Does 
he  really  look  like  the  Crushed?  Well,  God 
help  him !  Been  thirty  years  making  a  repu- 
tation?— that's  not  an  unusual  time;  I  have 
known  it  to  take  longer — and  I  am  taking  it 
from  him!  Come,  now,  that's  too  much! 
Seriously,  is  this  thing  true?  Well,  if  it  is, 
and  if  I  have  to  go  down  to  that  court  to  show 
cause,  by  George,  I  pity  the  man  that  brings 
me!  I  won't  let  him  rest  while  his  worried 
life  clings  to  him !  He  shall  get  telegrams  and 
post-cards  from  this  time  on  for  ever.  Do 
about  it?  Why,  I  shall  appear,  of  course! 
But  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,  except 
what  you  have  just  told  me.  Now,  my  hair' 
to   his   servant,    who   handed   him    his   wig — 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  87 

'has  the  Count  Joannes  really  hair  like  this? 
I  cannot  believe  it — it  is  some  monstrous  sell.' 

"  Mr.  Sothern  had  put  on  the  long,  solemn 
hair  of  the  '  Crushed  Tragedian/  and  his  eyes 
were  circled  about  with  rings  of  tearful  red, 
when  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  an- 
other reporter  was  announced — from  the 
Trihune.  Mr.  Sothern  threw  a  look  of  dark 
suspicion  into  his  eyes  and  sadly  shook  hands 
with  him. 

"  '  I  suppose  you  have  heard,  Mr.  Sothern,' 
said  the  new-comer,  '  that  the  Count  Joannes 
has  obtained  an  order  from  the  court  for  you 
to  show  cause  why  you  should  not  be  restrained 
from   playing  the   "  Crushed   Tragedian  ?  "  ' 

" '  Is  this  a  joke,  sir? '  asked  the  actor,  very 
stiffly. 

" '  Oh  no,  indeed !  It  is  a  fact.  He  really 
has.     Haven't  you  heard  of  it?' 

'' '  I  think  there  is  a  conspiracy,  and  now  it 
strikes  me  that  you  are  in  it.  I  never  played 
a  practical  joke  in  my  life.     But,  go  on,  sir.' 

" '  Really,  Mr.  Sothern,  this  is  a  serious 
matter.     The    Count    has    actually    obtained 


"  '  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  on  your  honour, 
that  you  are  not  attempting  to  joke  with 
me?'  ♦ 

"'No,  indeed;  I ' 

" '  Remember,  I  am  not  to  be  trifled  with.' 


88  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

" '  Do  you  anticipate  any  personal  trouble 
between  the  Count  and  yourself  ? ' 

"  '  If  what  you  tell  me  is  true,  I  do/ 

"  '  In  case  of  a  duel,  from  whom  would  the 
challenge  naturally  come?' 

" '  Oh,  from  him !  He  is  my  senior,  and  I 
would  not  think  of  cutting  in  in  such  a 
matter.' 

" '  But  he  is  titled,  and,  as  far  as  I  know,  a 
similar  honour  has  never  been  conferred  upon 
you  by  any  German  potentate.' 

" '  Only  because  I  have  been  too  busy  to 
think  of  it.  It 's  waiting  for  me,  and  I  can 
have  it  any  time  I  please.' 

" '  How  would  you  fight  the  Count  if  he 
should  challenge  you?' 

" '  I  should  prefer  the  date  to  be  the  first  of 
April,  and,  although  I  haven't  yet  fully  con- 
sidered the  question,  I  think  the  weapons 
should  be  cannon.  Yes,  on  reflection,  I  am 
sure  I  shall  insist  upon  those  new  cannon  that 
discharge  one  hundred  and  seventy  shots  a 
minute.  He  shall  sit  upon  one  of  those  en- 
gines and  I  upon  another,  and  we  will  continue 
them  until  there  shall  be  no  remnant  of  either 
the  Count  or  Sothern.'  " 

But,  although  the  actor  treated  the  whole 
thing  as  a  joke.  Count  Joannes  was  terribly 
in  earnest.  Of  course  nothing  came  of  his 
"  suit "    except    a    capital    advertisement    for 


MR.    E.    A.    SOTHERN    AS    LORD    DUNDREARY. 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  89 

Fitzaltamont,  of  which  full  advantage  was 
taken. 

When  "  The  Crushed  Tragedian  "  so  signally 
failed  at  the  Haymarket,  Sothern  appeared  for 
a  short  time  as  Sydney  Spoonbill,  in  a  three- 
act  farcical  play  by  H.  J.  Byron,  entitled  "  A 
Hornet's  Kest " ;  but,  as  he  himself  said,  it 
was  "  simply  a  case  of  dressing  himself  well, 
and  larking  about  the  stage  for  an  hour  or 
so,"  and,  though  it  caused  abundant  laugh- 
ter, the  impersonation  did  not  add  to  his 
reputation. 

For  benefits,  and  on  other  similar  occasions, 
he  now  and  then  took  other  parts,  but  this 
practically  exhausts  the  list  of  important 
characters  in  which  he  was  seen  on  the  Eng- 
lish stage. 

For  the  benefit  of  Edwin  Adams,  in  New 
York,  one  act  of  "  Othello "  was  given,  with 
Sothern  as  the  Moor,  Florence  as  I  ago,  Lotta 
as  Dcsdemona,  and  Mrs.  John  Drew  as  Emilia. 
Of  this  performance  one  who  was  present  said : 
"  Mrs.  Drew  acted  Emilia  superbly,  and  of 
course  in  all  seriousness;  but  little  Lotta,  the 
American  Chaumont,  burlesqued  Desdemona 
by  kicking  her  train  and  rattling  off  the 
speeches,  much  to  the  disgust  of  poor  Sothern, 
who,  magnificently  costumed,  played  Othello 
in  dead  earnest,  much  to  the  disappointment 
of  the  audience,  who  had  expected  all  sorts  of 


90  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

antics  from  Florence  and  himself.  In  this 
case,  as  frequently  off  the  stage,  Sothern  suf- 
fered from  his  reputation  as  an  incorrigible 
farceur;  frequently,  when  he  was  quite  seri- 
ous in  conversation,  he  would  find  people 
laughing  at  his  remarks." 

I  have  sometimes  thought  that  it  was  the 
recollection  (if  not  the  mortification)  of  these 
moments  that  first  made  Sothern  think  he 
would  like  to  play  "  The  Crushed  Tragedian." 
Concerning  this  benefit  performance,  in  which 
he  failed  to  impress  an  American  audience 
with  his  Othello,  he  wrote  to  England,  "  Ned 
Adams's  (dying)  benefit  comes  to  over  £2000, 
but  the  excitement  and  worry  have  made  me 
really  ill."  Poor  Sothern!  He  little  thought 
then  how  near  he  was  to  his  own  end! 

Of  new  pieces,  and  ideas  for  new  pieces,  his 
busy  brain  was  always  full.  Dundreary  shown 
under  new  conditions  was  always  with  him  a 
favourite  notion,  and  I  once  heard  him  say, 
with  a  half  laugh,  after  nervously  thrashing 
out  a  number  of  droll  notions  in  this  connec- 
tion, "  '  Dundreary's  Funeral '  would  n't  be  a 
bad  title,  would  it?  "  There  was  to  be  a  piece 
called  "  The  Founder  of  the  Family,"  in  which 
the  father  of  Dundreary  and  his  brother  Sam 
was  to  be  introduced  to  the  public.  The  manu- 
script of  this  play  is  in  existence,  and  the  idea 
of   it   is    excellent.     The   "  Founder "   is    de- 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  91 

picted  as  a  kind-hearted,  aristocratic  English- 
man, absolutely  without  a  memory — an  elab- 
orate and  altogether  whimsical,  but  always 
gentlemanly,  Mr.  Gatherwool.  I  believe  that 
Mr.  E.  H.  Sothern  intends  to  try  this  piece  in 
America;  he  possesses  much  of  his  father's 
peculiar  talent  and  method,  and  I  hope  and 
believe  that  he  will  succeed  in  it.  In  a  piece 
that  was  written  for,  but  never  acted  by,  his 
father  by  Messrs.  Robert  Reece  and  Maddison 
Morton,  and  the  title  of  which  has  been  al- 
tered from  "  Trade "  to  "  The  Highest  Bid- 
der," he  has  already  won  fame  and  fortune. 

Sothern  always  very  much  regretted  that  he 
had  not  had  the  chance  of  creating  the  char- 
acter of  Cheviot  Hill  in  Mr.  W.  S.  Gilbert's 
excruciatingly  funny  comedy  "  Engaged." 
"  It  is  what  I  have  been  waiting  for  for  years," 
he  declared ;  "  it  would  have  fitted  me  like  a 
glove."  Few  playgoers  who  remember  the 
actor's  quaint  method,  and  bear  in  mind  Mr. 
Gilbert's  ingeniously  conceived  character,  will 
in  this  instance  doubt  his  judgment.  In 
Cheviot  Hill  he  would  very  likely  have  found 
his  "  second  Dundi'eary  success."  But  for  ill- 
health  he  would  have  played  the  part  in  New 
York,  and,  knowing  that  Americans  have  no 
associations  with  the  "  Cheviot  Hills,"  he  pro- 
posed to  alter  the  name  of  the  character  to 
The  Marquis  of  Piccadilly.     There  were  other 


92  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

pieces  by  Dr.  Westland  Marston  concern- 
ing which  he  was  justifiably  sanguine,  but  in 
which  he  never  appeared.  The  last  work  upon 
which  I  saw  him  engaged  was  the  study  of  the 
play  specially  written  for  him  by  Mr.  Gilbert, 
entitled  "  Foggerty's  Fairy."  When  this  piece 
was  produced  by  Mr.  Charles  Wyndham  at 
the  Criterion  it  did  not  prove  a  great  attrac- 
tion, but  I,  who  heard  Sothern  read  it,  and 
was  thus  able  to  understand  his  grasp  of  a 
very  peculiar  character,  believe  that  in  his 
hands  it  would  have  been  a  striking  success. 
His  carefully  marked  copy  of  the  play  is  be- 
fore me  now.  Another  idea  of  his  was  a  play 
in  which  he  might  assume  madness,  just  as  in 
"  David  Garrick "  he  simulated  drunkenness. 
He  only  gave  this  up  when  a  friend  of  his — 
a  physician — told  him  that  when  he  was  a 
medical  adviser  at  a  madhouse,  and  was  com- 
pelled to  listen  to  the  wild  vagaries  of  his 
patients,  he  found  himself  drifting  uncon- 
sciously into  the  same  channels,  his  sleep  be- 
ing disturbed  by  strange  dreams,  and  his 
whole  nature  absorbed  in  the  contemplation 
of  the  mad  world.  Insanity  seemed  to  follow 
him  like  a  nightmare,  until  at  last,  finding  that 
his  mind  was  likely  to  become  more  or  less 
sympathetically  affected,  he  determined  to  sac- 
rifice his  salary,  retire  from  the  institution, 
and  commence  the  ordinary  practice  of  medi- 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  93 

cine.  Sothern,  who  had  almost  a  morbid  hor- 
ror of  madness,  dreaded  a  similar  experience, 
and  immediately  abandoned  the  project.  A 
piece  that  was  written  for  him  while  he  had 
it  in  view,  and  of  which  he  had  approved,  has 
been  produced  by  Mr.  Edward  Compton  under 
the  title  of  "  The  Actor." 

Few  who  witnessed  the  delightful  ease  with 
which  he  went  through  his  parts  would 
imagine  that  Sothern  was  the  most  nervous 
of  actors.  But  it  was  so,  and  he  once  said: 
"  I  think  that  most  of  our  best  actors  are 
painfully  nervous,  especially  on  the  first  two 
or  three  nights  of  a  performance  in  which  they 
may  be  specially  interested;  and  my  experi- 
ence tells  me  that  people  with  this  tem- 
perament are  never  fully  satisfied  with  their 
labours.  They  are  perpetually  polishing,  im- 
proving, and  revising.  The  very  instant  that 
an  actor  is  satisfied  with  his  own  work,  and 
believes  himself  to  have  reached  the  acme  of 
cleverness,  from  that  moment  he  begins  to 
deteriorate.  I  am  more  nervous  in  going  be- 
fore an  audience  now  than  I  was  twenty  years 
ago.  During  the  first  night  of  '  The  Crushed 
Tragedian '  a  lady  with  whom  I  was  play- 
ing told  me  she  thought  I  was  going  to  drop 
on  the  stage  in  a  faint,  and  I  thought  so  too, 
for  my  hands  and  feet  were  as  cold  as  marble. 
This,  however,  is  by  no  means  strange.     I  have 


94  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

seen  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  distinguished 
actors  on  the  English  stage  with  his  tongue  so 
completely  paralysed  for  several  seconds,  that 
he  was  obliged  to  wet  his  lips  before  he  could 
deliver  a  line." 

It  is  worthy  of  note  here  that,  although 
Sothern  always  wished  to  excel  and  be  re- 
ceived in  serious  parts,  he  believed  that  com- 
edy required  even  more  intensity,  and,  as  he 
would  put  it,  "  magnetism,"  than  melodrama 
or  tragedy,  because,  he  declared,  "  in  the  one 
case  the  actor  may  find  his  efifect  created  simply 
by  the  representation  of  a  touching  story,  while 
in  the  other,  unless  the  performer  by  action 
fully  illustrates  the  humour  of  an  idea,  the 
comedy  fails  to  be  appreciated,  and  the  mag- 
netic power  of  his  art  is  absent." 

Never  should  it  be  forgotten  that,  ever  mind- 
ful of  his  early  struggles  and  disappointments, 
Sothern,  in  the  day  of  his  triumph,  did  all  that 
in  him  lay  for  the  charitable  institutions  of 
the  theatrical  profession.  In  October,  1871, 
making  a  "  farewell  "  appearance  at  the  Hay- 
market  prior  to  his  departure  to  America,  he 
generously  handed  over  his  share  of  the  profits 
of  a  memorable  evening  to  the  Royal  General 
Theatrical  Fund.  The  house  was,  in  a  pecun- 
iary sense,  a  very  large  one,  the  receipts 
amounting  to  nearly  £500.  After  deducting 
Mr.  Buckstone's  share  of  the  proceeds,  and  the 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  95 

usual  expenses,  Sothern  contributed  to  the 
charity  the  handsome  sum  of  £204.  The 
ordinary  receipts  were  increased  by  admirers 
of  the  actor,  who  secured  private  boxes  at  ab- 
normal prices,  by  others  who  willingly  paid 
double  prices  for  their  stalls,  and  by  twenty- 
five  enthusiasts  who  paid  a  guinea  each  to  go 
behind  the  scenes  and  bid  the  most  popular 
actor  of  his  day  good-bye. 

Speaking  of  this  performance  and  its  re- 
sults, the  Times  said :  "  Mr.  Sothern  has  thus 
signalised  his  departure  by  a  munificent  act 
of  charity,  augmenting  a  popularity  which 
scarcely  seemed  susceptible  of  increase,  and 
there  is  no  doubt  that  his  reappearance  at  the 
Haymarket  next  summer  will  be  eagerly  an- 
ticipated by  the  play  going  world  of  England. 
Since  he  first  made  our  public  acquainted  with 
Lord  Dundreary  he  has  been  a  noted  figure, 
constantly  present  on  the  London  or  provin- 
cial stage,  and  his  visit  to  the  United  States 
will  cause  a  serious  gap  in  the  theatrical 
amusements  of  the  three  kingdoms." 

Nine  months  later  he  did  a  still  more  nota- 
ble thing,  and  in  speaking  of  it  I  may  once 
more  quote  the  Times: 

"  Probably  in  the  history  of  the  theatrical 
profession  there  is  no  fact  more  extraordinary 
or  more  honourable  than  the  appearance  of 
Mr.    Sothern    on    Wednesday    night.     In    the 


96  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

middle  of  an  American  engagement  he  crosses 
the  Atlantic  for  the  express  purpose  of  rep- 
resenting his  great  character,  Lord  Dundreary, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Royal  General  Theatri- 
cal Fund.  Of  course,  everybody  was  delighted 
with  an  exhibition  of  character  which  bears 
witness  to  an  original  genius  worthy  of 
Rabelais;  but  the  cheers  which  welcomed  his 
graceful  words  of  farewell  were  given,  not 
merely  to  the  great  actor,  but  to  the  generous 
benefactor.  The  deed  of  charity  done,  Mr 
Sothern  recrosses  the  Atlantic,  and  pursues 
the  course  of  his  American  engagement." 

In  concluding  my  chapter  on  "  Sothern  on 
the  Stage,"  I  cannot  do  better  than  quote  Dr. 
Westland  Marston,  who,  besides  being  an 
acute  critic  and  an  undoubted  authority,  had, 
as  we  have  seen,  exceptional  opportunities  of 
forming  an  opinion  of  his  acting  capacities. 
He  says :  "  In  broad  or  eccentric  characters, 
Mr.  Sothern's  humour  was  peculiar  to  itself. 
In  refined  comedy,  his  manner,  albeit  less  airy 
than  that  of  the  younger  Mathews,  was  not 
dissimilar.  Moreover,  in  his  power  in  the 
direction  of  sentiment,  though  special  and 
very  limited,  he  differed  from  his  brother- 
comedian,  in  whom  it  scarcely  existed.  Soth- 
ern, though  somewhat  heavy  in  serious  delivery, 
could  be  earnest  and  telling  in  sarcasm,  and 
I  have  known  him,  on  one  or  two  occasions. 


Sothern  on  the  Stage  97 

surprise  the  house  by  a  touch  of  pathos,  all 
the  more  telling  from  contrast  with  his  reck- 
less levity.  But  in  his  peculiarity  as  an  ec- 
centric humorist  he  had  no  rival  in  his  own 
(lay — no   successful   competitor. 

"  Whether  by  design  or  by  instinct,  he  was 
complete  master  of  all  that  is  irresistible  in 
the  unexpected.  If,  as  in  Lord  Dundreary, 
the  character  he  assumed  was  half-idiotic,  he 
would  deliver  its  absurdities  with  an  air  of 
profound  sagacity,  and  now  and  then  relieve 
them  by  a  sharp  thrust  of  shrewd  common 
sense.  If  his  mistakes  were  ridiculous  and 
farcical,  as  when  he  stumbled  into  the  lap  of 
an  old  dowager,  the  confusion  that  the  mistake 
occasioned  him,  and  his  air  of  well-bred  con- 
trition, half  redeemed  him  in  one's  opinion. 

"  In  his  early  performances  in  '  David  Gar- 
rick  ' — especially  the  scenes  in  which  he  at- 
tempts to  disenchant  the  citizen's  daughter  by 
assuming  the  excesses  of  a  drunkard — Mr. 
Sothern  was  droll  and  effective,  without  being 
overstrained,  and  there  was  real  feeling  in 
his  sense  of  the  humiliation  he  inflicts  upon 
himself  to  save  the  girl  who  loves  him  from  a 
misplaced  passion.  His  declamation  of  some 
tragic  lines,  though  a  little  heightened  for  the 
special  occasion,  was  so  fervent,  that  it  might 
have  been  effective  if  his  acting  had  been  in 
earnest.     More  than  once,  when  he  expressed 


98  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

his  besetting  desire  to  play  tragedy,  and  his 
fear  that  after  Lord  Dundreary  the  public 
would  not  accept  him,  '  Deliver  tragedy,'  I 
said,  '  as  you  do  in  *'  David  Garrick,"  only 
omit  the  touch  of  burlesque,  and  you  may  suc- 
ceed.' '  Ah !  but  it  is  just  because  in  "  David 
Garrick "  it  is  burlesque,'  he  replied  '  that  I 
dare  let  myself  go.'  This  reply  seemed  to  me 
to  light  up  the  entire  position." 

It    lighted    up    the   position   very    perfectly 
indeed. 


CHAPTER  II 

SOTHERN   OFF   THE   STAGE 

"  It  is  not  a  matter  of  wonder  that  Sothern 
is  spoken  of  as  '  a  prince  of  good  fellows.'  He 
is  magnetic  in  manner,  humorous  in  speech, 
rich  in  reminiscence,  responsive,  and  sympa- 
thetic, a  good  listener,  an  equally  good  talker, 
and  always  sparkling  like  a  newly-opened  bot- 
tle of  champagne.  With  such  a  battery  of 
social  forces,  added  to  ability  of  a  high  order 
in  the  representation  of  the  peculiar  charac- 
ters with  which  his  name  is  now  identified  on 
both  sides  the  Atlantic,  professional  success 
has  been  a  legitimate  result.  In  person  Mr. 
Sothern  is  probably  five  feet  ten  inches  in 
height,  and  put  together  as  if  intended  for 
hard  work.  He  is  wiry,  elastic,  as  restless  as 
a  bundle  of  nerves  under  galvanic  influence, 
and  would  be  marked  in  any  crowd  as  a  man 
possessed  of  strong  individuality  and  unusual 
personal  characteristics.  In  age  the  actor  has 
been  so  well  preserved  that,  like  Tim  Linkin- 
water,  he  might  have  been  born  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years  old,  and  gradually  come  down 
to  five-and-twenty,  for  he  seems  younger  every 
99 


100  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

birthday  than  he  was  the  year  before.  His 
face,  undisturbed  by  a  wrinkle  or  a  line  of 
trouble,  and  habitually  quiet,  is  still  lighted 
up  under  a  mass  of  beautiful  white  hair  by  a 
pair  of  bright  bluish-grey  eyes,  which  look  as 
if  they  were  undergoing  continual  drill  to  keep 
them  in  proper  subjection.  It  is  a  counte- 
nance full  of  expression — now  as  imperturba- 
ble as  if  it  were  carved  out  of  lignum  vitce,  a 
perfect  dead  wall,  and  again  filled  with  a  crowd 
of  welcomes  shining  out  of  every  smile.  A 
long  grey  moustache  hides  the  mouth,  but  fails 
to  conceal  the  many  little  lights  that  hover 
round  the  corners,  especially  when  the  mental 
fireworks  are  let  off,  and  one  begins  to  feel  as 
if  he  were  an  aurora  borealis.  Tidy  in  dress, 
with  little  or  no  display  of  Jewellery,  ingenu- 
ous, open  and  frank  in  the  acknowledgment 
of  a  foible  or  an  error,  such  is  an  offhand  pen- 
portrait  of  Edward  Askew  Sothern." 

Thus  wrote  one  who  knew  Sothern  in  the 
later  years  of  his  life  intimately.  Will  his 
description,  I  wonder,  convey  to  those  who  did 
not  know  the  actor  in  private  life  any  idea 
of  what  he  really  was?  Oddly  worded  though 
some  of  it  is,  it  is  all  true  enough;  and  as  I 
am  no  great  believer  in  "  pen-portraits,"  and 
certainly  could  not  hope  to  conjure  up  with 
ink  and  paper  the  varying  expressions  on  the 
refined,   handsome,   and  ever-kindly   face  that 


j^    Sothern  off  the  Stage]'  loi 

1  knew  so  well,  I  quote  it  here.  Of  course  the 
"  beautiful  white  hair "  and  the  "  long  grey 
moustache "  belonged  to  the  latter  period  of 
his  career.  I  knew  him  when  moustache  and 
hair  were  brown,  and  when  he  was  the  best 
looking,  the  best  dressed,  and  the  most  fas- 
cinating man  in  England.  No  wonder  that 
people  went  half  crazy  about  him,  or  that  he 
became  the  very  idol  of  London  society,  and 
the  courted  guest  of  all — from  royalty  down- 
wards. If  ever  a  deliberate  plot  was  made  to 
spoil  a  man,  the  victim  of  that  plot  was  Soth- 
ern; and  the  real  wonder  is  that  he  came  out 
of  the  ordeal  so  well.  Feted,  petted,  and  run 
after  by  the  highest  in  the  land,  he  never  for- 
got his  friends,  and  though,  as  a  matter  of 
expediency,  he  availed  himself  of  the  invita- 
tions that  were  literally  showered  upon  him, 
his  happiest  moments,  I  know,  were  passed 
with  those  who  really  cared  for  him,  and  had 
his  best  interests  at  heart.  Sothern,  as  I  have 
already  said,  was  the  comet,  not  of  one,  but  of 
many  London  seasons;  and  there  is  no  doubt 
that  the  whirl  of  excitement  in  which  he  per- 
force lived,  coupled  with  its  inevitable  conse- 
quences, prematurely  produced  the  white  hair, 
the  grey  moustache,  and  the  all  too  early 
death.  But  he  had  his  happy  days,  as  those 
who  knew  him  when  he  lived  in  the  charming 
old-fashioned  house  called   "  The  Cedars,"   in 


I02  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Wright's  Lane,  Kensington,  will  well  remem- 
ber. Revelling  in  the  presence  of  fulfilled 
ambition  and  apparently  endless  popularity 
and  prosperity,  Sothern  became  an  ideal  Eng- 
lish host,  and  took  keen  delight  in  all  the 
pleasures  that  his  position  enabled  him  to  com- 
mand. Not  once,  however,  did  he  allow  the 
exacting  demands  that  were  now  made  on  every 
moment  of  his  time  to  interfere  with  his  du- 
ties on  the  stage.  Attributing  his  hard-earned 
success  to  earnestness — to  doing  everything  as 
well  as  he  knew  how,  to  never  acting  on  the 
impulse  of  the  moment,  and  to  thoroughly  un- 
derstanding what  he  had  to  do, — he  was  ever 
on  the  look-out  for  fresh  characters  and  pieces ; 
and  when  rehearsals  became  necessary,  he 
worked  as  hard  and  as  anxiously  as  when  his 
very  bread  depended  upon  his  exertions.  The 
care  that  he  took  with  his  acting  was  almost 
rivalled  by  the  extraordinary  and  minute  at- 
tention that  he  paid  to  the  details  of  his  cos- 
tume when  dressing  for  his  parts.  Nothing 
would  induce  him  to  have  anything  of  a  make- 
shift character,  and  on  no  occasion  was  he 
known  to  appear  in  public  in  garments  in 
which  he  had  once  been  seen  on  the  stage. 
An  infinite  capacity  for  taking  pains  was  cer- 
tainly comprised  in,  if  it  did  not  wholly  con- 
stitute, Sothern's  genius. 
It  is  certainly  wonderful  how  he  could  be — 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  103 

as  he  undoubtedly  was — in  this  over-busy, 
feverish  period  of  his  life,  the  promptest  and 
most  regular  of  correspondents.  Every  let- 
ter— whether  from  friend  or  stranger — that  he 
received  was  quickly  answered;  every  applica- 
tion that  was  made  to  him  received  some  re- 
sponse. Like  every  actor  of  note,  he  was 
plagued,  almost  beyond  endurance,  by  the 
manuscripts  of  would-be  dramatists.  "  Great 
heavens ! "  he  used  to  say,  "  every  fresh  man 
that  I  meet  has  either  written  a  play,  or  wants 
to  sell  wine."  And  yet,  whenever  he  saw  the 
least  hope  in  the  work  submitted  to  him,  he 
was  ever  full  of  courtesy,  kindliness,  and  en- 
couragement. "  If  ever,"  he  wrote  to  a  young 
author,  who  had  timidly  submitted  a  play  to 
him,  "  if  ever  you  write  a  piece  that  I  can 
squarely  and  fairly  say  '  go  ahead '  with,  I  '11 
do  my  very  d — dest  to  make  it  a  '  hit.'  Get  to 
work  on  it,  and  I  '11  nurse  it  in  America  and 
bring  it  back  full  grown.  Nothing  would  give 
me  greater  pleasure  than  assisting  in  a  grand 
success  for  you — only  don't  let  us  make  a  mis- 
take. Frame  out  a  pretty,  simple  love  story; 
let  me  tell  you  where  the  '  ends  of  acts '  come 
in  (experience  alone  can  smell  that)  ;  and, 
above  all,  be  human  in  every  word  you  write. 
But,  '  Oh !  it 's  so  easy  to  advise,  and  so  diffi- 
cult to  do,'  say  you,  and  naturally  too.  It  is. 
Don't  write  for  a  star — don't  write  for  me; 


I04  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

write  for  a  very  first-class  company,  every 
part  A  1  in  its  class  and  proportions.  All  I 
can  add  is  that  I  '11  put  my  whole  soul  and 
heart  into  it,  and  no  one,  save  you,  shall  ever 
know  I  even  suggested.  Pull  your  head  to- 
gether with  a  plot — simple,  natural,  true  to 
nature.  Love  is  love  all  the  world  over. 
There  is  no  new  way  of  handling  it ;  but  a  real, 
genuine,  honest,  self-sacrificing  love  scene 
would  be  a  '  dead  certainty '  in  its  effect  on 
young  and  old.  Real  hearts  beat  much  alike. 
We  all  know  that.  Thousands  of  years  ago 
they  did — they  do  now — and  ever  will. 
Imagine  yourself  the  hero,  and  write  as  you 
fancy  you  would  feel." 

"  Get  your  pieces  printed,"  was  a  piece  of 
advice  that  Sothern  gave  to  unacted  drama- 
tists of  more  or  less  promise.  "  Tom  Robert- 
son," he  wrote,  "  used  to  get  all  his  plays  kept 
in  type,  scene  by  scene.  He  said  he  could  not 
judge  the  effect  till  he  read  them  in  type." 

An  admirable  lesson  was  conveyed  in  this 
way :  "  Write  your  pieces  in  telegrams.  I 
mean  by  that,  that  all  you  inexperienced 
authors  write  so  much  too  much,  and  I  would 
have  you  go  through  your  speeches  and  sen- 
tences from  a  telegraphic  point  of  view.  Here, 
for  example,  is  a  speech  that  would  cost  quite 
half-a-crown  to  send  along  the  wires.  Just 
look  through  it  again,  and  see  if,  with  the  same 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  105 

sense  conveyed  in  it,  you  could  not  cut  it 
down  and  send  it  for  a  shilling.  Overhaul 
your  pieces  in  this  way,  and,  depend  upon  it, 
you  will  improve  them.  The  public  of  to-day 
have  got  used  to  telegrams,  and  prefer  them  to 
the  polite  correspondence  of  the  Richardson- 
ian  days." 

Sothern  carried  this  theory  of  his  into 
practice,  and  was  a  very  strong  believer  in  the 
efficiency  of  the  use  of  the  theatrical  pruning- 
knife.  The  last  time  I  saw  him  act  (it  was 
almost  the  last  time  that  he  played  on  English 
boards),  a  singular  and  almost  painful  thing 
occurred,  which  made  him  declare  most  em- 
phatically that  audiences  cared  little  or  no- 
thing about  dialogue,  and  that  the  more  a 
piece  was  "  cut "  the  better  would  be  its 
chances  of  success.  The  play  of  the  evening 
was  "  David  Garrick."  Sothern  was  so  nerv- 
ous, ill,  worried,  and  unhappy,  that  (to  those 
who  knew  it)  it  seemed  almost  impossible  that 
he  would  get  through  the  evening.  He  did 
very  well,  however,  carrying  the  house  (and 
a  crowded  house  it  was)  with  him  as  usual, 
until  the  final  act,  when,  kneeling  by  the  side 
of  the  yielding  Ada  Ingot,  Garriclc  had  to  tell 
the  touching  story  of  his  early  life,  of  his 
parents'  objection  to  his  choice  of  a  profes- 
sion, of  his  disobedience  to  their  wishes,  of 
his  triumph   as   an   actor,   and   of  his   never- 


io6  Edward  Askew  Sothern"^ 

ending     remorse     for     his     mother's     broken 
heart. 

"  Ada,"  began  poor  Sothern,  "  I  had  a  mother 
once — I  had  a  mother  once  " ;  he  then  looked 
vaguely  round  the  house,  and,  to  those  who 
knew  him  and  his  then  state  of  health,  it  was 
clear  that  the  words  had  left  him.  The  voice 
of  the  prompter  was  heard;  Ada,  with  her 
averted  face  half-hidden  in  her  handkerchief, 
endeavoured  to  give  him  the  missing  lines ;  but 
it  was  of  no  avail,  the  words  were  hopelessly, 
irretrievably  gone.  "  I  had  a  mother  once," 
he  repeated,  in  the  sonorous  tones  with  which 
playgoers  were  once  so  familiar,  and  then,  with 
a  sigh,  cutting  the  Gordian  knot,  he  concluded 
by  giving  the  final  words  of  the  speech,  "  My 
mother  was  dead.  Her  tears  weigh  upon  me 
yet."  The  audience  applauded,  and,  all  else 
going  well,  "  David  Garrick  "  came  to  its  usual 
brilliant  termination.  Smoking  his  after-sup- 
per cigar  that  night,  Sothern  asked  me  if  I 
had  noticed  the  contretemps.  I  could  not 
say  no,  but,  anxious  that  he  should  not  dis- 
tress himself  about  it,  I  told  him  that  I  did 
not  think  that  it  could  have  been  observed  by 
those  who  were  not  very  familiar  with  the 
play.  "  Observed !  "  he  said ;  "  but  I  should 
think  it  was  observed!  Why,  the  scene  never 
went  so  well.  It  was  a  chance  cut,  but  it  was 
a    good    one.    '  I    had    a    mother    once ;    my 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  107 

mother  is  dead.'  That  is  all  the  public  want. 
They  don't  care  to  be  troubled  about  such 
merely  domestic  details  as  Garrick's  becoming 
a  famous  actor,  and  drawing  a  big  salary;  or 
with  the  old  lady's  inconsistent  and  uninter- 
esting broken-heartedness.  '  I  had  a  mother 
once;  my  mother  is  dead.'  That  sums  up 
everything;  it's  all  the  public  require,  and 
it's  all,  in  future,  they  will  ever  get  from  me 
in  the  last  act  of  '  Garrick.' " 

Another  young  dramatist  of  acquaint 
ance  sent  a  three-act  comedy  to  Sothern,  which 
he  pronounced  by  letter  to  be  "  extraordinary 
— absolutely  extraordinary,"  adding,  "  Come 
and  talk  it  over  with  me."  The  young  dra- 
matist did  go  and  talk  it  over  with  him,  and 
what  took  place  at  that  interview  may,  per- 
haps, best  be  told  in  dialogue: 

Y.  D.     I  am  so  glad  that  you  have  read  my  play. 

Sothern.  So  am  I.  I  have  thoroughly  enjoyed 
it. 

Y.  D.  {delighted).  That  is  almost  more  than  I 
dared  to  hope. 

Sothern.  It  was  a  great  deal  more  than  /  dared 
to  hope. 

Y.  D.     You  found  it  original? 

Sothern.  Absolutely.  I  never  read  anything  like 
it 

Y.  D.  (thinking  his  fortune  is  made).     Really 

Sothern  (interrupting  him) .  Shall  I  give  you  my 
candid  opinion  of  it  act  by  act? 


io8  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Y.  D.     If  it  would  not  be  too  much  trouble. 

Sothern.  None  at  all.  Well,  I  suppose  you  mean 
to  commence  with  the  first  act? 

Y.  D.     Naturally. 

Sothern.     Pardon  me,  I  was  not  quite  sure.     Of 

course,  I  'm  not   infallible — and .     Well,  you  're 

an  author,  and  I  'm  only  an  actor,  you  know.  Do 
you  altogether  like  that  first  act? 

Y.  D.  Well,  I  can't  say  that  I  'm  altogether  satis- 
fied with  it. 

Sothern.  Of  course  not.  No  one  would  be.  I 
know  the  experience  that  you  have  had  in  these 
matters,  and  directly  I  read  the  first  act  I  shook 
my    head    and    said:     "No,    no;    confound    it    all! 

,   who    knows   more    about   plays   than    I    do, 

can't  be  satisfied  with  the  first  act." 

Y.  D.  {pleased  at  the  way  in  which  he  is  being 
treated).     What  a  critic  you  are! 

Sothern.  Not  at  all.  You  dramatists  are  the 
real  critics.  Very  well,  then;  you  tell  me — in  con- 
fidence, of  course — that  you  don't  like  the  first  act. 
Good !     Then  we  '11  come  to  the  second. 

Y.  D.   (hopefully).     Yes;  what  of  the  second? 

Sothern.     Not  good,  is  it? 

Y.  D.    (ruefully).     Isn't  it? 

Sothern.     Well,  honestly,  is  it? 

Y.  D.     I  suppose  not,  if  you  have  it  so. 

Sothern.  Pardon  me,  you  have  it  so;  it's  your 
play,  not  mine.  Then,  as  you  frankly  tell  me  that 
you  don't  like  the  first  act,  and  consider  the  second 
one  not  good — which  means  bad — hear  my  opinion 
of  the  third  act. 

Y.  D.  (who  feels  that  the  third  act  is  his  strong- 
est card).     Yes, — well, — the  third  act? 

Sothern.  The  third  act,  my  boy,  is  simply 
beastly! 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  109 

In  the  kindness  of  his  heart,  Sothern  sub- 
sequently produced  a  little  play  by  that  young 
author,  giving  it,  as  few  others  would  do,  the 
very  finest  of  chances.  "  I  shall  begin,"  he 
wrote,  when  the  production  was  decided  upon, 
''  with  '  Garrick,'  your  piece  afterwards,  so 
that  it  will  have  the  best  place  in  the  Bill. 
Then  I  shall  wind  up  with  '  A  Regular  Fix.' " 
How  many  overworked  men,  I  wonder,  would 
go  to  such  trouble  as  this  in  order  to  let  a 
novice  have  a  hearing?  But  Sothern  always 
kept  in  mind  the  days  of  his  early  struggles, 
and  was  ever  ready  to  lend  a  helping  hand  to 
those  who  were  still  toiling  laboriously,  and 
in  many  cases  hopelessly,  on  the  road  to  the 
success  that  he  had  won. 

Another  trait  in  his  character  was  his  hearty 
admiration  of  the  good  work  done  by  his  con- 
temporaries on  the  stage.  Of  J.  B.  Buck- 
stone,  under  whose  management  at  the  Hay- 
market  he  made  his  first  London  appearance, 
and  for  so  many  years  acted,  he  said :  "  Buck- 
stone  must  now  be  about  seventy-five  years  of 
age;  but,  old  as  he  is,  he  gets  hold  of  his  audi- 
ence more  rapidly  than  any  one  I  know.  A 
simple  '  good  morning '  from  him  seems  to  set 
the  house  in  a  roar.  His  personal  magnetism 
is  simply  wonderful.  He  acts  as  if  he  had 
strings  on  all  his  fingers  attached  to  the  audi- 
ence in  front^  and  plays  with  them  and  pulls 


no  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

them  about  just  as  he  wants."  He  considered 
Mrs.  Kendal  the  first  and  finest  actress  of  the 
day,  and  he  had  a  special  admiration  for  the 
acting  of  Mrs.  Bancroft,  speaking  of  her  as 
being  in  her  own  way  "  the  best  actress  on  the 
English  stage — in  fact,  I  might  say  on  any 
stage."  He  was  also  enthusiastic  concerning 
the  work  done  by  Irving,  Toole,  Chippendale, 
Compton,  Hare,  Lionel  Brough,  Edward  Saker, 
Edward  Terry,  Hare,  W.  Farren,  and  Kendal. 
Among  the  actors  of  his  time,  however,  he 
gave  the  highest  place  to  David  James,  whose 
wonderful  transitions  from  broad  low  comedy 
to  domestic  pathos  he  could  never  sufficiently 
praise.  Miss  Larkin,  too,  came  in  for  a  full 
share  of  his  appreciation. 

In  his  early  American  days  he  had  wilfully 
kept  himself  out  of  an  engagement  in  order 
that  he  might  see  Rachel  play  her  celebrated 
characters,  and  he  never  forgot  the  lesson  that 
her  acting  taught  him.  "  There  was  a  fas- 
cination about  it,"  he  said,  "  that  was  almost 
painful.  She  had  less  action  than  any  artist 
I  have  ever  seen,  but  she  was  so  intensely  in 
earnest,  and  her  passion  was  so  overwhelming, 
though  subdued,  that  you  lost  yourself  in 
wonderment.  I  learned  from  her,  therefore, 
that  one  of  the  chief  elements  of  whatever  suc- 
cess I  expected  was  earnestness,  intensity, 
and  thorough  identification  with  every  part  in 


Sothern  off  the  Staee  iii 


fe 


which  I  might  be  engaged.  There  is  not  an 
audience  in  the  world  which  will  not  be  quick 
to  detect  the  sympathy  between  the  actor  and 
his  play." 

Of  Charles  Mathews's  wonderful  talent, 
which  ran  in  somewhat  the  same  groove  as  his 
own,  he  naturally  held  a  high  opinion.  "  He 
was  undoubtedly,"  he  said,  "  the  founder  of 
the  present  school  of  light  comedy,  and  when 
he  dies  I  know  of  no  man  who  will  take  his 
place.  His  force  consists  in  his  excessive — 
well,  I  may  call  it  his  champagny  airiness. 
Even  at  the  present  time,  when  he  must  be 
nearly  seventy  years  old,  he  dashes  on  the 
stage  with  all  the  lightness  and  brilliancy  of 
a  lad  of  twenty.  I  never  saw  Charles  Mathews 
attempt  a  serious  part,  and,  in  fact,  there 
does  n't  seem  to  be  one  pathetic  tone  in  his 
voice.  Still,  I  am  sure  that  he  would  play  a 
pathetic  scene  in  a  perfectly  natural  manner." 

Among  the  dramatists  who  wrote  for  him 
he  had  an  especial  liking  for  Henry  J.  Byron 
— "  and  so  would  any  one,"  he  said,  "  who  un- 
derstands the  character  of  the  man,  and 
appreciates  his  extraordinary  facility  for  pun- 
ning, twisting  words  inside  out,  and  producing 
the  wittiest  of  effects.  One,  however,  fre- 
quently must  read  his  burlesques  before  see- 
ing them,  in  order  to  understand  the  nice 
shading  which  he  employs  in  his  word-paint- 


112  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

ing.  As  regards  his  plays  when  put  upon  the 
stage,  not  one  company  in  a  hundred  can  give 
the  necessary  point  to  Byron's  witticisms  with- 
out seeming  to  force  them.  I  know  him  well, 
and  never  met  a  man  in  all  my  travels  who 
more  completely  '  corruscated '  with  brilliant 
thoughts  and  repartee.  A  stenographer  could 
almost  write  an  admirable  burlesque  by  tak- 
ing down  what  Byron  says  at  his  own  dinner- 
table,  because  his  humour  is  thrown  off  so 
easily  and  naturally.  Wit  with  him  is  spon- 
taneous, and  when  in  the  mood  every  sentence 
is  an  epigram.  It  is  a  prevailing  impression 
that  Byron  writes  too  rapidly,  but,  to  my  cer- 
tain knowledge,  he  frequently  does  not  take  a 
pen  in  hand  for  weeks  at  a  time.  I  have  often 
seen  him  after  a  chatty  dinner-party  go  to  his 
desk  and  make  a  half-dozen  memoranda.  Dur- 
ing that  time  he  probably  evolved  the  skele- 
ton of  a  play.  He  never  commences  a  drama 
wondering  how  he  is  going  to  finish  it;  the 
framework  is  all  clear  before  he  puts  pen  to 
paper.  The  beginning  and  the  end  of  every 
act  are  definitely  settled;  as  to  the  dialogue, 
that  comes  to  him  more  naturally  than  he  can 
scribble.  I  once  asked  him  why  he  did  not 
use  a  shorthand  reporter.  He  replied  that  the 
scratching  of  his  quill  on  the  paper  was  like 
music  to  him!  Another  thing:  he  scarcely 
ever  is  guilty  of  an  erasure,  and  when  he  has 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  113 

once  written  a  piece  he  has  the  strongest  pos- 
sible objection  to  alterations.  He  rarely  goes 
to  see  a  first  night's  performance  of  his  own 
work,  and  a  play  once  produced  seems  to  lose 
all  interest  in  his  mind,  doubtless  because  it 
is  so  quickly  succeeded  by  the  plot  of  the  next, 
which  you  may  be  sure  he  will  speedily  write. 
I  should  say  that  he  has  not  more  than  two  or 
three  friends  in  the  world  whom  he  regards  as 
intimate  associates.  In  fact,  his  life  is  all 
work,  but  such  pleasant  work  to  him  that  it 
never  becomes  tiresome  or  monotonous." 

Concerning  W.  S.  Gilbert,  whom  he  re- 
garded as  "  not  only  one  of  the  shining  lights 
of  modern  dramatic  literature,  but  an  excel- 
lent, generous,  and  high-toned  gentleman,"  he 
has  left  the  following  graceful  anecdote :  "  A 
short  time  ago,"  he  said,  "  I  made  a  proposi- 
tion to  him  to  write  a  comedy  for  me,  which 
he  agreed  to  do  for  an  agreed  sum,  to  be  paid 
on  the  delivery  of  the  manuscript.  I  particu- 
larly^ requested  him  not  to  make  an  individual 
part  for  me,  inasmuch  as  I  wished  to  select  it 
myself.  The  play,  when  finished,  was  a  beau- 
tiful composition;  but,  after  many  weeks  of 
thought  and  reading,  I  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  character  which  Gilbert  had  evidently 
created  for  my  own  personation  was  not  suited 
to  my  style  and  methods,  and  I  wrote  him  to 
that  eflfect.     He  replied  in  the  most  unselfish 


1 14  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

spirit,  expressing  his  regret  that  I  had  not 
been  suited,  and  at  once  offering  to  take  back 
the  play.  I  like  to  speak  of  this  circumstance, 
because  it  is  an  exceptional  instance  of  large- 
heartedness  on  the  part  of  one  who  might 
legally  and  reasonably  have  enforced  his 
contract." 

To  those  who  did  not  know  Sothern  inti- 
mately it  may  bQ  somewhat  of  a  surprise  to  be 
told  that  he  was  intensely  fond  of  the  study 
of  theology.  Every  book  upon  the  subject 
that  he  could  get  he  would  read  with  avidity, 
and  he  delighted  in  nothing  more  than  a  pro- 
longed discussion  on  theological  matters.  He 
thoroughly  disliked  creeds,  and  had  a  profound 
contempt  for  bigotry;  but  from  his  readings 
and  discussions  he  formed  religious  convic- 
tions of  his  own,  which  were  short,  simple, 
and  to  the  point.  "  They  only,"  he  would  say, 
with  an  irresistible  twinkle  in  his  blue-grey 
eyes,  "  require  living  up  to ! "  And,  in  never 
forgetting  the  claims  of  friendship,  he  lived 
up  to  them  right  manfully. 

Although  he  never,  unaided,  was  the  author 
of  a  London-produced  play,  we  have  seen  how 
he  amplified  the  work  of  others,  and  in  a  few 
odd  moments  of  his  active  life  he  was  very 
fond  of  using  his  facile  pen.  As  an  example 
of  what  he  would  do  in  this  direction,  I  may, 
perhaps,  be  permitted  to  quote  the  following 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  1 1 5 

"  Rambling  Reflections  "  that  appeared  in  the 
Illustrated  Sporting  and  Dramatic  News  of 
December,  1874: 

"  In  knocking  about  the  world,  here,  there, 
and  everywhere,  I  have  sometimes  whiled  away 
the  tedium  of  solitary  evenings,  while  '  taking 
mine  ease  in  mine  inn,'  by  jotting  down  the 
rambling  reflections  that  occurred  to  my  mind 
during  my  long  and  lonesome  railway  jour- 
neys. Some  of  them  owe  their  birth  to  stray 
paragraphs  of  newspapers  picked  up  en  voy- 
age, others  to  incidents  in  my  own  chequered 
career,  and  yet  others,  I  am  afraid,  to  the 
mere  rumble  and  jumble  of  the  train,  originat- 
ing a  similar  rumble  and  jumble  in  the  drain. 
However,  be  they  as  they  may,  good,  bad,  or 
indifferent,  '  be  they  spirits  of  health  or  gob- 
lins damned,'  I  will  adventure  them  forth  on 
the  tide  of  public  opinion,  and  launch  my 
'  unconsidered  trifles '  on  the  stream,  as  the 
truant  schoolboy  sends  his  paper  boat  floating 
whither  chance  may  direct,  without  compass, 
helm,  or  log,  and  so,  '  vogue  la  galere.' 

"  A  strong  prejudice  exists  among  certain 
classes  of  presumably  intelligent  people 
against  novels,  novel-writers,  and  novel-read- 
ers. It  is  considered  a  waste  of  time  to  read 
works  of  fiction — that  valuable  time  that  might 
be  so  much  better  employed  in  minding  your 
business,   i.e.,    cheating   your    neighbours;    ra- 


ii6  Edward  Askew  Sothern  ^ 

tional  conversation,  i.e.,  scandal  and  gossip; 
scientific  inquiry,  i.e.,  having  your  head  felt 
by  Professor  Bumptious;  and  religion,  i.e., 
damning  everybody's  soul  who  does  not  be- 
long to  your  particular  church.  In  former 
days  this  prejudice  extended  to  a  sort  of  social 
ostracism  of  all  who  dared  to  confess  the 
heinous  crime  of  novel-reading;  and  truly,  in 
these  times,  there  was  some  shadow  of  excuse 
for  such  severity,  for  it  must  be  allowed  that 
the  novels  of  the  period,  albeit  full  of  wit  and 
invention,  were  somewhat  prurient,  to  use  the 
mildest  term,  or  what  Judge  of  Eoundwood 
would  have  called  '  bordering  on  the  indel.' 
Fielding  and  Smollett  have  left  us  lifelike 
pictures  of  their  times,  indeed;  but  we  can 
scarcely  blame  the  parents  of  that  day  for 
striving  to  guard  the  minds  of  their  children 
from  the  cochonnerie  so  plentifully  scattered 
over  the  pages  of  '  Peregrine  Pickle,'  '  Tom 
Jones,'  and  others  of  like  kidney.  The  novels 
that  were  not  naughty  were  insufferably  dull. 
Witness  Richardson's  '  Sir  Charles  Grandi- 
son,'  a  work  which  we  defy  any  one,  however 
much  imbued  with  respect  for  the  '  classic  au- 
thors,' to  wade  through  at  present;  and  the 
'  Evelina '  of  Miss  Burney,  which  bears  about 
the  same  relation  to  a  good  novel  of  the  pres- 
ent day,  in  completeness  of  plot  and  sparkle 
of  dialogue,  as  the  Marchioness's  orange-peel 


_^Sothern  ojff  the  Stage  117 

and  water   does   to   Perrier  and  Jouet's   dry 
champagne. 

"  With  the  Avatar  of  Scott  all  this  was 
changed.  A  higher  tone  was  infused  into  the 
literature  of  fiction.  A  choice  of  comic  char- 
acter, inclining  more  to  the  ludicrous  than 
the  coarse,  to  the  eccentric  than  to  the  vul- 
gar, took  the  place  of  the  obscenities  that 
passed  for  wit  and  humour  with  our  great- 
grandfathers. Historical  accuracy  supplanted 
loose  description,  and  true  local  colouring  re- 
placed that  inclination  to  dress  everybody  and 
everything  in  Roman  costume  or  else  in  the 
ordinary  apparel  of  the  time.  The  statue  of 
Canning  as  a  Roman  senator  and  Garrick 
playing  Macheth  in  the  uniform  of  the  Guards 
are  examples  in  point.  Scott  was  a  scholar 
and  antiquarian.  His  historical  characters 
are  costumed  with  scrupulous  accuracy,  and 
armed  according  to  the  fashion  of  their  age; 
their  conversation  is  modelled  on  the  works 
of  the  old  writers,  unstarched  to  a  colloquial 
consistency.  In  reading  the  romances  of  the 
*  Wizard  of  the  North,'  we  seem  to  live  in  the 
very  midst  of  the  people  and  manners  de- 
scribed. Who  has  not  shared  the  Scottish 
breakfasts  at  Tullyveolan,  and  drank  '  pottle 
deep'  from  the  Bear  of  Bradwardine?  How 
often  have  we  quailed  under  the  objurgations 
of   Meg   Dods,    and    accompanied   the   '  daun- 


ii8  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

dering '  by  brae  and  burn  of  Edie  Ochiltree? 
It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  he  who  has 
lovingly  studied  the  '  Waverley  Novels '  is  an 
educated  man. 

*'  From  the  era  of  Scott  to  the  present  day, 
novelists  have  sought,  by  every  means  in  their 
power,  of  care  and  research,  to  make  their 
works  faithful  pen-pictures  of  the  times  and 
places  they  profess  to  describe,  so  that  the 
reader  is  transported  from  scene  to  scene  with 
the  magic  celerity  of  Chaucer's  '  Hors  of  tree.' 
The  whole  world  is  opened  to  the  view;  our 
ideas  become  gradually  cosmopolitan — 

*  No  pent-up  Utica  contracts  our  powers, 
The  whole,  the  boundless  continent  is  ours.' 

German,  French,  Spanish,  Italian,  nay,  even 
Kussian  and  Asiatic  life  become  as  familiar 
to  us  as  if  we  were  '  native,  and  to  the  man- 
ner born.'  National  prejudices  disappear;  we 
come  to  appreciate  the  fact  that  '  the  whole 
world  is  akin,'  and,  by  consequence,  to  recog- 
nise the  universal  brotherhood  of  man.  As  a 
natural  result,  war  becomes  abhorrent  to  our 
feelings;  familiarity  with  the  manners  and 
customs  of  other  nations  deprives  us  of  that 
lofty  contempt  and  insolent  conceit  which  are 
such  powerful  incentives  to  aggression,  and 
we  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that  the  eleventh 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  1 19 

commandment  is  by  far  the  best,  '  Love  one 
another.' 

"  In  good  novels  of  the  present  day,  the 
reader  is  brought  into  close  contact,  mentally, 
with  all  sorts  of  people,  and  with  all  the  dis- 
eases of  the  body  politic,  which  he  would 
naturally  avoid  and  shrink  from  personally. 
His  sympathies  are  awakened  and  his  charity 
aroused  by  the  vivid  pictures  of  misery  and 
vice,  and  his  best  feelings  are  called  into  ac- 
tion responsive  to  the  scenes  of  refinement 
and  virtue  depicted  by  the  graphic  pens  of 
close  observers.  The  manners  of  the  higher 
classes,  and  the  refinement  of  their  language, 
are  rendered  available  to  all,  and  men  may 
become,  aye!  have  become,  finished  gentlemen 
from  the  careful  perusal  of  good  novels,  who, 
otherwise,  from  lack  of  opportunity  and  ex- 
ample, must  have  remained  clowns.  The 
novel-reader,  also,  lives  a  multiplied  life;  he 
exists  not  only  in  his  own  person,  but  also  in 
the  history  of  each  one  of  those  friends  of 
fancy  whose  companionship  is  as  real  to  him 
as  that  of  the  men  and  women  whom  he  daily 
meets.  Is  not  Tom  Pinch  the  bosom  friend  of 
every  one?  Who  has  not  taken  Colonel  New- 
come  into  his  heart  of  hearts?  Verily,  I  be- 
lieve that  more  than  railways,  steamships,  or 
telegrams — more  than  gas,  or,  greatest  of 
modern    inventions,     lucifer     matches! — have 


I20  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

novels  and  novelists  aided  to  advance  the 
higher  civilisation  and  to  extend  the  homo- 
geneity of  humanity. 

"  The  drama  is  but  an  acted  novel,  and,  be- 
ing acted,  that  is,  presented  in  bodily  form 
and  audible  speech,  appeals  even  more  vividly 
than  mere  written  description  to  the  masses 
who  have  not  the'  faculty  of  impersonating  in 
their  own  minds  the  ideas  of  others,  and  to 
whom  representation  is  essential.  We  won- 
der what  the  world  would  be  without  the 
drama  to  '  hold,  as  't  were,  the  mirror  up  to 
nature;  to  show  virtue  her  own  feature,  scorn 
her  own  image,  and  the  very  age  and  body 
of  the  time  its  form  and  presence';  had  we 
no  Othello  to  warn  us  against  jealousy,  no 
'  School  for  Scandal '  to  ridicule  that  most 
fashionable  vice,  no  '  Tartuffe '  to  gibbet  hy- 
pocrisy, no  lago  to  put  us  on  our  guard 
against  our  '  honest '  friends  ?  In  this  ma- 
terial age,  and  most  matter-of-fact  country, 
the  drama,  either  in  its  spoken  or  written  form, 
is  almost  the  sole  intellectual  element  of  our 
civilisation :  all  else  is  '  Fact,  sir !  hard  fact ! ' 
For  '  to  the  general '  the  influence  of  poetry, 
painting,  and  music  is  far  removed,  while  the 
drama  is  ever  present  in  some  form  or  other. 
The  pulpit  is  so  entirely  given  over  to  the 
exaltation  of  sect,  and  dreams  of  the  future 
life,  to  the  utter  neglect  of  things  pertaining 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  121 

to  the  present  existence;  deals  so  exclusively 
in  post-obits,  in  fact,  is  so  thoroughly  polemi- 
cal and  retrogressive,  that  its  power  as  a  puri- 
fier and  guide  is  almost  naught.  The  press, 
although,  thank  Heaven !  we  can  proudly  point 
to  the  leading  papers  of  England  and  America 
as  the  bulwarks  of  liberty  and  the  fearless  ex- 
posers  of  imposture  and  incompetence,  is  still 
so  occupied  with  the  material  occurrences  of 
the  day  and  the  more  weighty  affairs  of  State 
and  commerce  that,  with  the  exception  of  those 
journals  specially  devoted  to  literature  and 
art,  it  literally  has  not  the  space  to  devote  to 
aesthetic  culture  as  a  main  object,  but  is,  by 
the  necessity  of  the  case,  forced  to  neglect  the 
lighter  subjects;  and  so  the  drama  is  left 
almost  alone  as  a  refining,  elevating,  and 
warning  medium  to  that  large  majority  of  the 
world's  inhabitants,  whose  lack  of  time,  op- 
portunity, or  taste  for  study  prohibits  any 
very  profound  views  to  originate  with  them- 
selves, and  who  are  therefore  fain  to  accept 
the  opinion  of  some  *  guide,  philosopher,  and 
friend,'  to  mould  their  crude  views  of  things 
into  shape  and  consistence.  Let  us,  then, 
watch  that  it  be  not  lowered  by  the  prurient 
taste  of  the  vulgar,  or  the  caprice  and  vanity 
of  its  professors,  but  lend  one  and  all  our  best 
endeavours  to  raise  and  purify  it  as  the  prop 
And  mainstay  of  civilisation." 


122  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

It  will  be  surmised  from  this  that  Sothern 
was  not  only  a  firm  believer  in  the  real  good 
that  might  be  done  by  the  conscientious  follow- 
ing of  his  own  profession,  but  an  enthusiastic 
reader  of  high-class  novels.  Nothing,  indeed, 
in  the  way  of  romance  came  amiss  to  him,  and 
I  well  remember  the  eager  and  boyish  delight 
with  which  he  devoured  the  wildly  improbable 
but  cleverly  conceived  stories  of  Jules  Verne. 

His  "  Rambling  Reflections  "  were  continued 
as  follows: 

"  They  say  '  a  straw  thrown  up  shows  how 
the  wind  blows,'  and  the  difficulty  both  in 
England  and  America  of  convicting  any  one 
accused  of  capital  crime  is  but  an  indication 
of  the  gale  of  popular  feeling  blowing  adverse 
to  judicial  murder.  People  are  beginning  to 
see  that  t^^o  wrongs  do  not*  make  a  right,  and 
that  to  kill  one  man  because  he  has  killed  an- 
other is  but  to  put  yourself  in  his  place  and 
to  lower  yourself  to  his  level.  A  great  many 
relics  and  exuvice  of  barbarism  have  descended 
to  us  from  the  old  Jewish,  Roman,  and  feudal 
times,  when,  as  in  all  savage  and  semi-civilised 
tribes  and  peoples  of  the  present  day,  ven- 
geance was  thought  a  virtue,  and  '  an  eye  for 
an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,'  was  the  iron 
rule  which  the  advance  of  human  thought 
seeks  to  displace  by  the  golden  one,  '  Do  unto 
others  as  ye  would  that  others  should  do  unto 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  123 

you ' ;  with  but  indifferent  success,  however, 
as  yet,  for  up  to  the  present  time  people  will 
go  to  church  and  listen  reverently  to  the  enun- 
ciation of  the  merciful  precept  of  Him  whom 
they  acknowledge  as  the  God  of  mercy,  and 
afterwards  condemn  a  fellow-creature  to  the 
stake,  axe,  or  gallows,  with  the  greatest  com- 
placency and  satisfaction,  licking  their  lips 
the  while,  and  patting  themselves  on  the  head 
as  expecting  that  God  of  mercy  and  loving- 
kindness  to  welcome  each  one  to  the  heavenly 
city,  when  they  pay  Him  a  visit,  with  '  Well 
done,  good  and  faithful  servant!  enter  thou 
into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord.' 

"  Happily,  at  last  there  appears  '  a  cloud  no 
bigger  than  a  man's  hand '  rising  above  the 
horizon,  which  may  prove  to  be  the  harbinger 
of  a  plenteous  rain.  Things  are  turning 
round,  and  people  are  beginning  to  see  that 
'  the  worst  use  you  can  put  a  man  to  is  to 
hang  him,'  while  the  feeling  that  it  is  wrong 
for  a  fallible  creature  to  commit  an  irrevoca- 
ble act  is  daily  gaining  ground.  If  we  kill 
a  man  because  we,  in  our  weak  and  easily  mis- 
led judgment,  think  that  he  has  committed  a 
murder,  we  cannot  give  back  the  life  that  we 
have  rashly  taken  away,  even  should  his  in- 
nocence afterwards  become  as  clear  as  the 
sun  at  noonday.  The  irrevocable  deed  is  done 
past  recall,  and  we,  the  people  who  have  killed 


124  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

an  innocent  man,  are  as  much  murderers  as 
he  who,  smarting  under  real  or  fancied  wrongs, 
slays  his  injurer;  whereas,  should  we  upon 
strong,  and  to  us  convincing,  evidence  sentence 
a  man  to  imprisonment  for  life,  and  circum- 
stances should  in  time  prove  his  innocence, 
we  can,  at  least,  restore  the  remainder  of  his 
existence  and  make  what  poor  atonement  may 
be  in  our  power  for  the  time  we  have  robbed 
him  of.  This  feeling  is  the  cause  of  the  lenity 
exhibited  by  juries  in  cases  of  capital  crime; 
it  may  remain  in  abeyance  in  the  instance 
of  some  professional  slaughterer  who  basely 
murders  for  gain;  but  in  any  case  where  the 
least  excuse  of  passion  is  available,  it  starts 
up  like  a  knight-errant  of  yore,  and  throws  its 
protecting  shield  between  the  gallows  and  its 
victim. 

"  Do  away  with  the  cruel,  disgusting  halter, 
and  you  will  do  away  with  forsworn  juries 
and  tergiversating  judges.  In  order  to  make 
this  a  safe  proceeding  to  the  community,  ex- 
ecutive clemency  should  be  abolished.  Neither 
king,  president,  nor  governor  should  have  the 
power  to  turn  a  murderer  loose  upon  society 
at  his  caprice;  the  incontrovertible  proof  of 
entire  innocence  should  alone  justify  the  open- 
ing of  the  prison  doors,  and  the  united  voice 
of  the  legislative  body  be  the  only  means  of 
grace.     '  To  this  complexion  we  must  come  at 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  125 

last.'  Let  us  consider  for  a  moment  the  ma- 
terial, so  to  speak,  of  our  juries.  Are  they 
not  for  the  most  part  composed  of  stolid, 
half-educated,  or  wholly  ignorant  men  of  the 
lower  middle-class,  whose  knowledge  of  the 
world  is  limited  to  the  mere  mechanical  func- 
tions of  their  trade  or  calling,  and  who,  even 
in  that,  are  so  unidea'd,  that  if  you  order 
anything  in  the  least  different  from  what  they 
have  been  used  to,  the  least  bit  out  of  their 
groove,  you  are  sure  to  have  your  orders  to- 
tally misunderstood,  and  the  article,  whatever 
it  may  be,  utterly  spoiled?  Men  to  whom 
prejudice  stands  in  the  place  of  reason,  who 
do  so  and  so  because  their  fathers  did  so 
before  them,  and  to  whom  an  original  thought 
or  a  logical  deduction  is  simply  an  impossi- 
bility! And  yet  to  such  hands  as  these  we 
trust  a  man's  life!  that  mysterious  gift  which, 
once  taken,  we  cannot  restore — that  flame 
which,  once  extinguished,  we  cannot  relume — 
that  '  Anima '  or  breath  which,  once  exhaled, 
is  irrevocably  diffused  through  the  eternal 
void.  And  the  judges!  what  better  are  they? 
Why,  not  much  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago 
the  great  lights  of  the  law,  the  legal  patriarchs, 
who  are  still  looked  up  to  as  the  exponents  of 
British  justice,  burned  old  ladies  at  the  stake 
as  witches!  (Query,  did  they  believe  they 
were,  or  were  their  worships  only  yielding  to 


I  26  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

public  opinion,  and  roasting  ancient  dames 
'pour  encourager  les  autres'?)  Truly,  as 
Stephen  Plim  says,  '  it 's  aw  a  muddle,'  or,  as 
I  sa}^  myself,  "  it 's  one  of  those  things  that  no 
fella  can  find  out.' 

"  I  should  like  to  come  to  life  again  in  about 
five  hundred  years,  and  see  how  they  manage 
things  then.  But  I  suppose  even  then  there 
would  be  something  to  growl  about,  and  that, 
with  Don  Quixote,  that  incarnation  of  reform, 
we  should  have  ^  duelos  y  quebrantes,'  i.e., 
gripes  and  grumblings,  at  least  once  a  week." 

There  was,  I  think,  nothing  that  Sothern 
hated  so  much,  or  concerning  which  he  would 
wax  so  wrathfully  eloquent,  as  capital 
punishment. 

That  in  the  early  days  of  his  stage  career 
Sothern  had  some  ambition  to  become  his  own 
dramatist,  will  be  seen  by  an  extract  from  a 
letter,  bearing  date  January  10,  1861,  that  he 
wrote  from  New   York : 

"  As  for  myself,  I  have  (in  acting)  much  im- 
proved since  we  parted,  and  I  have  been  edu- 
cating myself  for  London.  When  I  do  make 
my  appearance  there  it  will  be  in  one  of  my 
own  pieces.  I  have  now  written  four  pieces 
— two  six  acts,  and  two  five  acts.  First,  an 
adaptation  of  Octave  Feuillet's  French  novel, 
'  The  Romance  of  a  Poor  Young  Man  ' ;  second, 
'  Buffalo  ' ;  third,  '  Suspense  ' ;  fourth,  '■  Redemp- 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  127 

tion,'  founded  on  a  piece  now  making  a  sensa- 
tion in  Paris.  I  have  also  two  more  in  hand. 
I  often  write  all  night  when  I  am  in  the  hu- 
mour. I  feel  sure  of  my  success  in  '  Suspense ' 
in  London.  In  every  city  I  open  in  that  part, 
and  invar iaMy  carry  all  before  me.  I  write 
to  an  old  friend,  else  I  would  not  pen  so  ego- 
tistical a  letter;  but  I  know  all  news  of  my 
progress  pleases  and  interests  you.  I  have 
not  printed  anything  yet,  nor  shall  I  till  I 
have  played  out  their  novelty." 

It  was  not  until  long  after  he  came  to  Lon- 
don that  Sothern  required  a  new  play,  and 
then,  as  we  have  seen,  he  put  these  pieces  of 
his  own  upon  the  shelf,  and  wisely  entrusted 
himself  to  the  experienced  and  popular  pens 
of  such  dramatists  as  Tom  Robertson,  Tom 
Taylor,  John  Oxenford,  Watts  Phillips,  and 
Westland  Marston.  It  is  interesting,  how- 
ever, to  note  that  Sothern  had  himself  written 
a  play  on  the  subject  of  "  The  Hero  of  Ro- 
mance," with  which  the  last-named  author  had 
supplied  him.  In  his  pleasant  memoirs,  Mr. 
Bancroft  records  how,  when  he  was  a  member 
of  the  stock  company  at  Dublin,  in  the  heyday 
of  Dundreary's  success,  Sothern,  "  afflicted 
with  the  mania  that  his  true  vocation  was  that 
of  a  serious  actor,"  unsuccessfully  revived  a 
powerful  but  gloomy  play  called  "  Retribu- 
tion,"   which    was    originally    acted    at    the 


128  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Olympic  by  Alfred  Wigan,  George  Vining,  and 
Miss  Herbert.  Sothern  played  Count  PriuU, 
Mr.  Bancroft  was  Oscar  de  Beaupre, — and 
there  is  reason  to  believe  that  this  was  an- 
other of  the  dramas  that  the  young  actor  had 
previously  adapted  for  his  own  use  in  Amer- 
ica. The  connection  between  Sothern  and 
Robertson  dated  as  far  back  as  the  days  when, 
as  "  Douglas  Stuart,"  the  actor  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Wolverhampton  stock  company,  and 
when  a  piece  (there  is  some  evidence  to  show 
that  it  was  a  crude  and  early  version  of 
"David  Garrick")  was  rehearsed  under  the 
superintendence  of  the  young  dramatist.  Mr. 
William  Rignold,  the  well-known  actor,  was 
then  the  conductor  of  the  orchestra  of  five  ( !), 
and  well  remembers  the  occasion,  though  (con- 
ductors have  to  sit  through  so  many  pieces!) 
he  cannot  be  quite  certain  as  to  the  play. 
That  Sothern  wrote  these  plays  of  his  in  stormy 
times,  will  be  gathered  by  a  further  extract 
from  the  letter  from  which  I  have  quoted: 

"Times  are  fearful  here,"  he  wrote;  "civil 
war  sure,  and  next  time  you  hear  from  me  I 
may  be  writing  with  a  pen  in  one  hand  and  a 
blunderbuss  in  the  other!  But,  joking  apart, 
affairs  here  are  in  a  terrible  state,  and  revolu- 
tion is  inevitable.  Next  Monday  I  open  for 
two  nights  at  Philadelphia — the  '  Walnut ' ; 
thence  to  Washington,  and  afterwards  to  Bal- 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  129 

timore;  but  before  my  Philadelphia  engage- 
ment is  through  it 's  more  than  possible  that 
Washington  may  be  a  mass  of  burning  ruins. 
In  May  I  'm  sure  to  come  to  England,  if  not 
before.  Don't  make  any  engagement  for  me. 
I  prefer  landing  clear,  then  I  can  see  how  the 
land  lies.  The  theatres  are  closing  up  here 
right  and  left.  Washington  and  Baltimore 
are  keeping  open  now  solely  for  my  engage- 
ment, in  the  hope  that  I  may  pull  up 
business." 

In  an  old  scrap-book  that,  during  the  strug- 
gling American  days,  Sothern,  with  charac- 
teristic method,  kept,  there  is  an  advertised 
outline  of  the  play  called  "  Suspense,"  which, 
in  good  old-fashioned  style,  runs  as  follows: 

"BENEFIT    AND    LAST    APPEARANCE     BUT 
ONE    OF   MR.    SOTHERN. 


THIS  EVENING,  SEPT.  28,  1860, 

WILL    BE    PRESENTED 

MR.    SOTHERN'S   NEW   FIVE-ACT   DRAMA, 

ENTITLED 

SUSPENSE. 

Jules  D'Alber   Mr.  Sothern. 

"  Synopsis    of    Scenery    and    Incidents. 

"  ACT   I. — The  story   of  Jules'   courtship — 


130  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Marie's  dislike  to  a  country  life — '  This  sea 
always  the  same ! ' — Entrance  of  Jules  D'Alber 
— Her  husband — Jules'  dream — '  A  fairy  ves- 
sel, with  sails  of  white  satin  and  silver  cords ' 
— A  speculation — A  rapid  fortune — '  You  shall 
have  your  castle,  believe  me ! ' — The  whistle — 
The  gallant  Henri — The  arrival  of  the  bonnet 
— The  wager — Ten  bonnets  against  one  kiss — 
Entry  of  the  crew  and  their  tribes — Away  to 
the  christening — Michael's  description  of  his 
lady  love — '  She  can  lift  a  barrel  of  cider ' — 
His  resolve  to  accompany  Jules  on  the  voyage 
— Return  of  the  party  after  the  christening  of 
the  schooner — Song  and  chorus — Drink  to  the 
crew — They  weigh  anchor  in  twenty  minutes 
— The  voyage  begins — '  The  sailor  knows  not 
if  he  may  ever  return ' — The  parting — The  let- 
ter explaining  all — '  Farewell !  God  bless  you 
all !  Farewell ! ' — Now  to  sea — Marie's  distress 
— Henri's  treachery — '  I  can  give  it  her  to- 
morrow ' — His  sudden  jealousy  of  Antoine — 
Alone!  alone! — Lapse  of  twelve  months. 

"  ACT  II.  New  Scene. — Antoine's  house  and 
garden — Packing  up — The  arrival  of  a  Paris- 
ian friend — Treatise  on  love — The  omnibus — 
Marie! — Check  and  counter-check — The  watch- 
dog— '  I  must  muzzle  him ' — Octave  tired  of 
the  horse-pond — '  She  loves  me ' — La  Dumond 
— The  old  nurse — '  Ha !  another  watch-dog.' 

"ACT    III.     New    Scene.— Room    in    D'Al- 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  131 

ber's  house — Night — Octave's  first  effort  as 
confidant — His  first  love — '  At  a  baker's  ' — 
The  silk  window — Henri's  jealousy  and  disin- 
terested advice — The  storm  at  sea — Mala- 
propos visit  of  Antoine — The  temptation — 
Trials  of  love — The  rivals — ^The  quarrel 
— '  Hark !  it  is  my  husband ! ' — Jules'  sudden 
return  in  the  midnight  storm,  after  a  twelve- 
month's absence — The  painful  reception — Joy 
and  sorrow — The  invitation — '  Remember  to- 
morrow ' — La  Dumond's  determination  to  re- 
veal all  to  her  master — The  love-letter — A  silk 
window — '  Let  me  not  think,  or  I  shall  go 
mad ' — '  My  poor  master,  I  have  much  to  tell 
you  ' — '  Speak !   I  am   prepared   for   all.' 

"  ACT  IV.  Scene — Jules'  house — Morning 
— My  wife — My  friend — Let  me  not  forget  't  is 
with  them  I  love  to  deal' — The  crew's  pres 
ent — The  breakfast — The  story  of  Henri's  life 
saved  in  a  shipwreck  of  Jules' — Taunts  and 
insults — '  Let  us  smoke  in  the  garden  ' — The 
duel  arranged — The  seconds — Jules'  instruc- 
tions to  Henri  with  the  sabre — '  May  your  suc- 
cess in  this  encounter  be  equal  to  your  loyalty 
and  trust ' — Now  engaged ! — '  Are  you  afraid  ? 
— I  cannot  afford  to  love  you  yet.' 

"  ACT  V.  Scene — Jules'  house — Night — 
The  letter — Confession  and  flight — Abrupt  ar- 
rival of  Jules  D'AIber — The  treasures  of  jewels 
and    gold — Remembrance — The    fairy    has    re- 


132  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

turned  to  her  home — '  What  are  you  looking 
at  so  earnesti}-,  Marie?' — Ten  o'clock — The 
hour  is  past — '  Too  late  1  too  late ! ' — '  Did  I 
not  know  your  love,  your  loyalty,  and  trust, 
I  should  imagine  that  you  contemplated  treach- 
ery, Marie ! ' — '  Kay,  I  swear  ' — '  You  lie,  per- 
jured woman,  you  lie! ' — The  cries  of  those  dy- 
ing in  agony  of  soul,  as  well  as  body,  borne 
on  the  wind — Death!  ruin!  misery!  the  reward 
of  treachery — Sailors'  chorus  and  departure — 
Mighty  Octave!  receive  once  more  in  thy 
bosom  thy  deceived  and  heart-broken  son; 
henceforth  thou  art  my  only  country,  my  only 
home — France,  farewell,  for  ever! — Alone! 
alone !  " 

Surely,  when  Sothern  talked  of  commencing 
his  much-coveted  career  in  a  play  of  this  type, 
his  expectation  was  that  he  would  star  at  the 
Adelphi  rather  than  at  the  Haymarket;  and 
yet  throughout  this  preposterous  melodrama- 
tic synopsis  of  a  piece  in  which,  no  doubt,  the 
actor-author  thoroughly  enjoyed  himself,  one 
can  trace  the  humour  of  the  destined  Lord 
Dundreary.  The  "  old  nurse "  of  the  second 
act  was  very  possibly  an  ancestress  of  the 
ancient  domestic  who  was  responsible  for  the 
infant  training  of  Brother  Sam;  and  it  is 
easy  to  believe  that  "  another  watch-dog  "  was 
the  progenitor  of  the  famous  animal  that  was 
"Strong  enough  to  wag  his  own  tail.     Be  this  as 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  133 

it  may,  it  is  certain  that  while  Sothern  loved 
playing  the  hero  of  pieces  of  the  "  Suspense  " 
description,  he  was  always  most  keenly  alive 
to  the  absurdities  of  the  situations  in  which  he 
on  these  occasions  found  himself. 

There  are  other  things  in  this  old  scrap- 
book  that,  although  they  deal  with  Sothern 
as  an  actor,  may  (inasmuch  as  they  show  the 
records  of  his  early  days  that  he  cared  to  keep) 
be  appropriately  quoted  in  my  "  Ofif  the  Stage  " 
chapter.  There  are  criticisms,  good,  bad,  and 
indifferent,  on  his  acting  as  Count  Priuli, 
in  "  Retribution " ;  Pu^;  Felix  Featherly, 
in  Stirling  Coyne's  comedy,  "  Everybody's 
Friend  " ;  and  the  hero  of  "  The  Marble  Heart." 
Concerning  the  last-named  performance,  a 
critic  wrote :  "  The  opening  scene,  indicating 
'  a  dream,'  typical  of  an  artist  sculptor's  studio 
at  Athens,  gives  to  view  the  statues  of  Alcibi- 
ades,  Gorgos,  Diogenes,  the  three  Graces,  with 
the  loving  slave  Thea,  and  Phidias  (who  fore- 
shadow Marie  and  Raphael  in  the  reality  or 
sequel).  This  scene  was  altogether  wrongly 
represented,  and  always  has  been  so  in  this 
country,  but  we  never  witnessed  the  absurdity 
before  of  putting  the  fond  Phidias  in  Roman 
costume.  Mr.  Sothern  made  him  up  in  a 
Roman  shirt,  Roman  sandals,  and  Roman  arm- 
our sleeves.  Ye  Grecian  gods!  well  may  you 
have  looked  so  sorrowful  at  the  absence  of  the 


134  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Athenian  tunic  and  cothurni!  In  fact,  Mr. 
Sothern  reminded  us  more  of  his  Jason  in  the 
tragedy  of  '  Medea,'  or  an  insane  gladiator 
who  has  been  mesmerised,  than  a  Grecian." 
There  are  many  interesting  allusions  to  his 
performance  as  The  Kinchin  in  "  The  Flowers 
of  the  Forest,"  which  was  evidently  a  very 
popular  one  (remarkable  in  its  disguise,  and 
admirable  in  its  minutiw)  in  America,  and 
which  he  played  after  as  well  as  before  his 
Dundreary  success;  and  there  is  a  little  be- 
fore-the-curtain  speech  in  connection  with  the 
last-named  impersonation  that  is  well  worth 
recording.  It  was  at  Albany  that,  having  re- 
sponded to  an  enthusiastic  call,  Sothern  said: 
"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  hardly  think  it  cus- 
tomary to  make  a  speech  on  the  first  evening 
of  a  performance,  such  things  being  generally 
kept  in  reserve  until  the  evening  of  a  benefit. 
But  since  you  have  insisted  upon  it,  I  must 
heartily  thank  you  for  your  attention  and 
laughter  at  one  of  the  most  absurd  perform- 
ances ever  seen  on  the  stage.  I  have  endeav- 
oured to  make  Lord  Dundreary  a  caricature 
— a  burlesque  of  the  broadest  type — upon  the 
silly  and  contemptible  fops  we  everywhere 
meet.  If  I  have  done  so  to  your  satisfaction 
I  am  satisfied.  I  have  to  ask,  however,  that 
you  will  not  judge  of  my  merits  by  the  per- 
formance— it  is  absolutely  too  silly.     I  trust, 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  135 

however,  before  the  close  of  my  engagement,  to 
appear  before  jou  in  parts  of  some  merit,  when 
I  hope  to  give  you  an  opportunity  to  judge  of 
my  abilities." 

Poor  Sothern!  How  great  must  his  mor- 
tification have  been  when  he  found  that 
the  inane  Dundreary  absolutely  ruined  the 
budding  prospects  of  the  gallant  hero  of 
••  Suspense." 

And  yet,  as  I  have  hinted,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  all  the  time  that  he  was  with  the 
most  energetic  earnestness  playing  these  ideal 
parts,  he  had  an  eye  on  the  ludicrous  and  bur- 
lesque side  of  them.  In  proof  of  this,  this 
very  scrap-book  shows  that  while  he  was  rev- 
elling in  his  own  version  of  "  The  Romance 
of  a  Poor  Young  Man "  ("  The  Hero  of  Ro- 
mance" of  subsequent  Hay  market  days),  he 
would  from  time  to  time  appear  in  what 
he  called  the  "  farcical  tragedy "  of  "  The 
Romance  of  a  Very  Poor  Young  Oyster- 
man." 

This  venerable  collection  of  newspaper  cut- 
tings contains,  from  a  New  Orleans  journal, 
the  following  somewhat  odd  account  of  the 
origin  of  Tom  Taylor's  play,  "  Our  American 
Cousin  " : 

"  During  the  years  1850-51,  when  the 
'  World's  Fair '  in  the  '  Crystal  Palace,'  on  the 
banks  of  the  '  Serpentine,'  in  Hyde  Park,  Lon- 


136  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

don,  was  the  great  attraction  to  the  wonder- 
loving,  the  United  States  were  better  and  more 
numerously  represented  by  people  than  any 
other  country.  In  the  current  twelve  months 
it  is  estimated  fifty  thousand  Americans  visited 
the  great  metropolis  of  England,  and  we  all 
remember  the  furore  some  of  our  Yankees 
created.  Hobbs'  locks  were  placed  on  the 
doors  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain's  offices;  Colt's 
revolvers  were  in  the  holsters  of  every  British 
cavalry  officer;  Connecticut  baby-jumpers  were 
in  the  royal  nursery;  and  Massachusetts  pat- 
ent back-acting,  self-adjusting,  rotary  motion, 
open-and-shut  mouse-traps  were  the  terror  of 
even  aristocratic  rats.  Lord  John  Russell 
'  guessed  '  and  '  calculated  '  on  the  '  Papal  Ag- 
gression Bill ' ;  Palmerston  and  Disraeli 
'  whittled,'  one  on,  the  other  around  the  Wool- 
sack ;  and  through  the  columns  of  the  elegantly 
worded  Court  Circular,  we  learned  that  at  a  par- 
ticular fraction  of  an  hour,  on  a  particular  day 
of  the  week,  her  most  gracious  Majesty,  Queen 
Victoria,  aided  by  the  Royal  Consort,  His 
Highness  Prince  Albert,  together  with  the 
whole  royal  family,  indulged  in  three  half- 
pints  of  '  pea-nuts '  and  four  and  the  two-six- 
teenths of  our  genuine  '  pumpkin-pies  ' ;  while 
Cardinal  Wiseman  and  the  Bishop  of  London 
were  seen  playing  '  poker '  over  two  stiff 
'Bourbon   whisky-slings';   in   a   word,   every- 


WHAT    AN    ATH    THIS   FELLOW    IS." 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  137 

thing  was  Yankee  with  the  cockneys,  who  pro- 
nounced their  cousin  the  only  individual 
elevated  to  an  equal  capacity  with  the  titillat- 
ing, pulverised  particles  of  the  tobacco-plant — 
in  other  words,  '  up  to  snufif.'  This  state  of 
things  naturally  caught  the  attention  of  the 
dramatic  world,  and  a  comedian  of  the 
Yankee  school,  named  Josiah  Silsby,  visited 
London,  where  and  when  Tom  Taylor,  the 
facetiously  called  '  author,'  immediately 
brought  his  '  adaptation  '  pen  to  work  and  pro- 
duced '  Our  American  Cousin,'  in  which  Mr. 
Silsby  was  to  play  at  the  Adelphi  Theatre  the 
then  leading  character  of  Asa  Trenchard.  To 
Mr.  Ben  Webster,  the  lessee  of  the  Adelphi, 
this  play  was  sold  by  Tom  Taylor  for  the  sum 
of  £80.  Mr.  Webster  held  it  in  his  study,  and 
on  reconsideration,  as  the  year  1851  was  com- 
ing to  a  close,  and  the  Yankee  mania  was  dying 
away,  declined  putting  the  piece  on  the  stage, 
and  by  way  of  a  compensation  and  considera- 
tion to  Silsby  for  breaking  up  the  unexpired 
engagement  between  them,  and  a  desire  to 
have  Madame  Celeste  as  a  '  star '  at  the  Adel- 
phi, he  (Mr.  Webster)  made  Silsby  a  present 
of  the  manuscript  of  the  play  of  '  Our  Ameri- 
can Cousin.'  On  reading  it,  Silsby  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  was  an  ineffective  piece,  and 
placed  it  *  on  the  shelf '  until  his  return  to 
America,  when  he  rehearsed  it  in  California. 


138  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Again  it  was  doomed  to  the  shelf  without  the 
public  getting  a  view  of  it. 

"  Years  passed,  and  in  the  meantime  Tom 
Taylor,  thinking  because  Silsby  died  that  '  Our 
American  Cousin '  was  a  manuscript  in  the 
basket  of  oblivion  and  '  rejected  addresses,' 
and  having  a  copy  of  it,  placed  the  same  in  his 
New  York  agent's  hands,  who  in  due  course 
sold  it  to  Laura  Keene  for  a  thousand  dollars. 
On  the  production  of  the  piece  for  the  first 
time,  Mrs.  Silsby,  the  widow  of  the  comedian, 
remembering  the  name  and  the  various  char- 
acters, having  been  present  at  the  rehearsal  in 
California,  searched  over  the  old  papers  of 
her  late  husband,  and  then  found  the  original 
manuscript,  with  the  following  superscription 
in  Josiah  Silsby's  own  handwriting,  '  Our 
American  Cousin,  by  Tom  Taylor.  From  B. 
Webster  to  J.  Silsby.'  The  subject  coming  to 
the  ears  of  Messrs.  Wheatley  and  Clarke,  the 
managers  of  the  Arch  Street  Theatre,  Phila- 
delphia, they  bought  the  original  manuscript 
from  Mrs.  Silsby,  and  commenced  rendering 
the  play,  when  a  lawsuit  was  instituted  be- 
tween themselves  and  Miss  Laura  Keene,  in 
which  some  interesting  evidence  was  elicited, 
but  none  that  sustained  the  Philadelphia  mana- 
gers in  their  case  against  the  shrewd  and  wily 
Laura.  The  piece,  from  its  first  night  at 
Laura  Keene's  to  the  time  of  its  withdrawal. 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  139 

was  wonderfully  attractive,  and,  though  played 
in  every  city  of  the  Union  since,  has  not  been 
successful  as  a  '  run,'  save  in  such  cities  as  a 
short  distance  made  it  convenient  for  the 
imitators  to  visit,  watch,  and  study  the  origi- 
nal performers.  For  instance,  from  Boston 
F.  L.  Davenport  and  Chanfrau,  J.  A.  Smith 
and  Warren,  and  from  Philadelphia,  Wheat- 
ley  and  Clarke,  visited  Laura  Keene's  in  New 
York,  and  repeatedly  studiously  witnessed 
every  movement,  every  '  gag '  or  stage  tact,  and 
the  entire  affair  was  secretly  taken  down  in 
shorthand  by  hired  stenographers  for  these 
gentlemen.  Hence,  in  only  those  cities  has  the 
piece  been  well  rendered,  and  though  the  pub- 
lic have  seen  it  already  here,  many  have  yet 
to  see  it  more  complete  with  its  three  original 
characters,  and  its  chief  one,  Lord  Dundreary. 
So  much  for  the  history  of  '  Our  American 
Cousin.' " 

If  the  history  be  a  true  one,  it  would  then 
appear  that  when,  in  1851,  Charles  Kean 
prophesied  that  Sothern  would  one  day  work 
his  way  in  London,  the  piece  in  which  his  first 
great  success  was  to  be  achieved  was  already 
written,  and  in  the  possession  of  Benjamin 
Webster. 

The  book  also  gives  a  record  of  a  benefit 
performance  in  which  "  Messrs.  Jefferson  and 
Sothern  were  immensely  funny  '  in  Box  and 


140  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

iJox,'  paraphrasing  the  points  of  the  piece  in 
the  most  unblushing  manner  to  suit  the  cir- 
cumstances of  their  own  professional  associa- 
tions. For  instance,  instead  of  Box  asking 
Cox  if  he  had  '  a  strawberry  mark  on  his  left 
arm,'  and,  after  receiving  a  negative  answer, 
exclaiming,  '  Then  you  are  my  long-lost 
brother ! '  Mr.  Sothern  said,  '  You  have  the 
mark  of  a  thneeze  on  your  left  arm  ? '  '  No,' 
replied  Mr.  Jefferson.  '  Then,'  cried  Mr. 
Sothern,  '  you  are  my  long-lost  American 
cousin ! ' " 

As  a  further  proof  of  his  desire  in  these  days 
to  get  away  from  America  and  Dundreary, 
and  to  come  to  England  with  a  piece  after  his 
own  heart,  I  may  quote  from  two  letters  writ- 
ten in  1859: 

"  New  York,  January  7,  1859. 
"  My  Howard  Athenaeum  spec,  begins  on 
Monday,  the  17th  inst.  Stars,  Mrs.  Forrest 
{i.e.,  Sinclair),  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boucicault,  Miss 
Matilda  Heron,  Miss  Vandenhoff.  I  am  leav- 
ing no  stone  unturned  to  ensure  success,  but 
God  only  knows  whether  it  will  turn  out  well. 
It  will  either  be  a  big  lump  of  money,  or  a 
dead  failure.  I  '11  keep  you  posted  up  in  the 
whole  affair.  This  everlasting  '  American 
Cousin  '  is  now  in  its  twelfth  week,  and  doubt- 
less will  run  all  the  season.     I  left  Wallack's 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  141 

because  Lester  and  I  clashed  too  much,  and  I 
felt  a  change  of  locality  does  good  sometimes. 
I  only  get  sixty  dollars  here  now,  but  I  get 
two  benefits,  which  brings  it  to  seventy-five 
dollars.  The  panic  lowered  all  salaries.  If 
my  Boston  spec,  be  a  success,  you  '11  see  me  in 
Liverpool  to  a  certainty.  What  the  devil  do 
you  mean  by  my  getting  £5  a  week  in 
England?"    .    .    . 

"January  21,  1859. 
"  On  the  7th  I  wrote  you  a  long  letter. 
Since  then  I  have  opened  the  Howard  Athe- 
naeum, and  Mrs.  Sinclair's  engagement  has 
turned  out  an  utter  failure.  I  shall  drop  about 
1200  dollars  on  her  twelve  nights!  The  whole 
Boston  public  are  against  her.  Every  one 
fancied  she  would  be  a  great  card.  This  is  a 
terrible  blow  to  my  English  trip,  but  the  Bou- 
cicaults,  Miss  Heron,  and  Miss  Vandenhoflf 
may  pull  it  up, — but  I  doubt  if  I  can  clear  my- 
self, unless  these  stars  make  a  big  strike! 
'T  is  very  disheartening,  and  't  is  so  bad  to 
open  the  season  with  a  failure.  A  few  weeks 
more  will  settle  the  point.  God  grant  I  may 
be  on  the  right  side.  '  Our  American  Cousin  ' 
is  running  yet  (15th  week!)  and  bids  fair  to 
go  till  the  4th  of  July.  'T  is  considered  the 
biggest  hit  ever  made  in  America!" 

And  again,  in  another  undated  but  evidently 


142  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

earlier  letter  (for  Dundreary  was  at  last  do- 
ing for  him  what  his  speculation  as  a  mana- 
ger did  not),  he  says: 

"  If  I  can  possibly  raise  money  enough,  you 
will  see  me  in  England  about  the  first  week  in 
September.  All  depends  on  the  success  of  my 
Halifax  season.  So  much  do  I  desire  to  come, 
that  I  am  making  no  engagements  for  the 
Fall  here.  Should  Halifax  fail,  it  will  stun 
me ;  but  I  've  full  hopes  it  will  succeed." 

The  following  extracts  from  his  letters  to 
a  lifelong  friend,  and  one  of  his  fellow-actors 
of  the  Jersey  days,  are  not  without  interest. 
They  convey  some  idea  of  his  style  as  a  cor- 
responent,  and,  almost  to  the  last,  the  irre- 
pressible buoyancy  of  his  spirits: 

"  I  send  you  MS.  and  parts  of  a  new  farce, 
to  be  announced  as  follows: 

A  NEW  AND  ORIGINAL  FARCE 

BY 

THE   CELEBRATED   AUTHOR   OF   'BOX  AND 
COX,' 

ENTITLED 

'DUNDREARY    A    FATHER.' 

Lord  Dundreary    Mr.   Sothern. 

Jem  Baker    Mr.   Blakeley. 

Parker  (a  Page)  ....Call  Boy,  dressed  in  buttons. 
Nabhevi    (a  Policeman) 2nd  Low  Com. 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  143 

Mrs.   Mountches  sing  ton    Mrs.    Lacy. 

Lady  Dundreary  . . .  Miss  Pateman  or  Mrs.  Smith. 

Nurse 2nd   Old   Woman. 

Mrs.   Nabhem    1st   Chambermaid. 

"  We  will  play  it  on  Tuesday,  after  '  A  Les- 
son for  Life.'  It  will  draw,  and  only  plays 
thirty  minutes.  Sefton  telegraphed  you  to 
announce  '  A  Lesson  for  Life,'  Monday,  Tues- 
day, Wednesday,  and  Thursday,  and  '  A  Fa- 
vourite of  Fortune,'  and  '  A  Little  Treasure ' 
(I  play  Maidenhlush)  for  Friday,  and  '  Gar- 
rick  '  and  '  A  Little  Treasure,'  Saturday.  '  A 
Little  Treasure '  only  plays  for  an  hour  and  a 
quarter,  so  you  can  play  a  rattling  melodrama 
afterwards." 

"  Many  thanks  for  your  trouble,  and  for  the 
many  jolly  days  you  gave  me  and  my  dog 
'  Tiger '  in  your  stunning  little  yacht.  This  is 
a  gi^and  audience!  They  literally  howl  with 
laughter ;  but  it 's  very  stupid  in  a  hotel  all  by 
myself.  Glad  your  Othello  knocked  'em  silly. 
Did  you  collar  any  of  Salvini's  points? 

DID 

you 

CUT  YOUR 

THROAT? 

"7  consider  I   play   Claude  Melnotte  d — d 


144  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

badly,  but  others  don't,  so  I  don't  dispute  the 
point." 

"What  fishing  tackle  shall  we  bring  down? 
I  would  suggest  a  regular  dinner-hour,  and 
club  together  for  the  cost.  I  never  was  so 
snug  and  comfortable  as  I  was  when  we  three 
lodged  together,  and  your  dear  wife  was  so 
thoughful  and  kind.  Long  life  to  the  OLD 
TIMES,  say  I!" 

"  S.S.  Adriatic. 

"  Here  we  are  at  Queenstown.  So  far  a 
lovely  passage.  Saker  is  now  in  irons,  fast- 
ened to  the  scuppers.  Manning  is  at  the  wheel, 
and  we  've  only  had  five  collisions.  In  fact, 
we  quite  miss  them  if  they  don't  occur  every 
hour  or  so.  It 's  now  half-past  eleven  a.m., 
and  I  have  polished  off  four  breakfasts.  Mrs. 
Saker  is  hauling  up  the  Union  Jack  in  the 
mizzen-top,  and  Manning,  in  a  fit  of  absence  of 
mind,  has  just  upset  a  lighthouse;  but  no  one 
seems  annoyed.  We  have  just  knocked  our 
keel  off.  Seven  hundred  and  fifty  emigrants 
all  in  handcuffs, — one  man  floating  on  the  keel. 

"  Ever  yours, 

"E.  A.  S. 

"P.S.— Boiler   just   burst!!!" 

"  As  far  as  money  goes,  it 's  not  worth 
my  while  returning  to  England.  My  posi- 
tion   here     (in    America)     is    stronger    than 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  145 

ever  it  was,  and  *  The  Crushed '  is  a  five-act 
HOWLER!  It  has  acknowledgedly  walked 
clean  over  Dundreary's  head.  I  have  recon- 
structed the  piece,  and  in  many  ways  strength- 
ened my  part.  Dear  old  Tiger  died  on  my 
breast  on  my  way  to  Canada.  I  miss  him 
more  than  I  can  convey.  He  knew  he  was 
dying." 

"  My  eight  weeks'  New  York  engagement 
was  a  big  '  go.'  Now  I  'm  at  Boston  for  four 
weeks.  Then  I  go  to  Brooklyn,  and  again 
play  in  New  York,  at  the  Grand  Opera  House, 
for  three  weeks,  '  on  a  certainty '  of  $12,500, 
i.e.,  £2500.  Not  so  '  dusty '  for  a  poor  wan- 
dering stroller,  eh  ?  I  am  as  well  as  ever ;  but 
I  still  move  the  stage  chairs  and  tables  about 
( !)    and  worry  property  men.     Don't  engage 

me   for ,    except   for   your   benefit.     Then 

my  terms  will  be  awful! — i.e.,  nothing! — but 
one   cigar!     Be   sure   to   remember   me   most 

kindly  to .     Were  it  not  for  two  or  three 

like  him,  I  'd  never  play  in  England  again, — 
that  is  to  say,  as  far  as  '  money '  goes ;  but  the 
said  money  is  not  all  in  this  world,  thank 
God!" 

"  I  have  written  to  Clarke.  His  fear  is  that 
a  preliminary  performance  of  '  The  Crushed ' 
in  Birmingham  may  take  the  gloss  off  my  Lon- 
don   appearance,    and    that    the    Birmingham 


146  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

critics  may  cut  me  up.  I  can't  accept  that 
view,  for  the  Birmingham  critics  have  ever 
been  most  generous  in  their  opinions  of  my 

acting,  though  they  have  once  or  twice  d d 

the  pieces;  and  they  were  right!" 

"  I  've  taken  most  comfortable  lodgings  in 
Brighton,  where  no  loafing  outsiders  can 
coolly  walk  in  and  stare  at  me.  The  doctors 
say  I  'm  better,  and  possibly  I  am  a  little ;  but 
I  'm  very  weak  and  ill,  and  another  week  will 
decide  if  I  play  next  season  or  not.  The 
amount  of  tissue  that  I  have  lost  is  startling. 
I  am  all  but  a  skeleton." 

"  Thank  you  for  your  note.  Don't  make 
any  mistake.  I  Tiever  lose  my  spirits  unless  I 
am  so  utterly  low  that  I  can't  joke  and  laugh. 
I  am  really  and  dangerously  ill,  so  weak  that 
I  can't  walk  over  a  few  yards.  My  own  feel- 
ings tell  me  far  more  than  any  doctor  could 
do.  I  could  n't  have  got  as  far  as  Yarmouth. 
I  did  the  only  thing  that  could  be  done, — that 
is,  put  myself  under  treatment  at  once, — and 
even  at  that  I  fear  it  was  too  late.  I  can 
scarcely  walk.  I  am  afraid  that  I  must 
cancel  all  my  American  engagements, — a  tre- 
mendous loss!  I  was  struck  down  as  if  by 
lightning.     I  never  was  so  staggered ! " 

Here,  too,  are  characteristic  letters  written 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  147 

in  his  later  days  to  his  earliest  and  life-long 
American  friend,  Mrs.  Vincent: 

"  Lovely  One, 

"  Was  it  four  we  fixed  for  the  dinner  hour? 
Shall  I  expect  the  same  little  party  as  we 
were  last  night?     I  hope  so. 

"  Ever  yours, 

"  Ned." 

"  Dear  Little  Nice  Person, 

"  Why  the did  n't  you  reply  to  my  let- 
ter?   Do  come  and  see  me.     Eh?    Will  you? 
Wire  '  yes,'  and  a  carriage  will  meet  you.     If 
you  don't  answer  this  letter,  we  are  mortal 
FOES 
for 
LIFE !  !  ! 

"  Lovingly  yours, 

"  Ned. 
P.S. — "  I  've    got    some    nice    birds    (lovely 
pets)    for  you.     If  you  don't  come,  I  '11  have 
them  hoiled! 

"  Edward." 

"Beautiful  Sinner! 

"  Good !  We  will  be  with  you  to-night  about 
11.15. 

"  Thine, 

«  S." 


148  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

"  Beautiful  Stalactite  ! 

"  Do  not  forget  that  you  and  Smith  quietly 
feed  with  me  at  three  o'clock  to-day.  '  The 
banquet'  will  be  on  the  festive  board  pre- 
cisely at 

3.15 
Wilkie   Collins   is   coming   purposely   to   meet 
you. 

"  Yours  cringingly, 

"E.  A.  Sothern." 

When  serious,  and,  as  it  afterwards  proved, 
fatal,  illness  struck  him  down,  and  he  was 
compelled  to  give  up  his  professional  engage- 
ments, and  was  almost  dragged  away  to  the 
Continent,  he  wrote  as  follows  to  a  dear 
friend : 

" '  Here  we  R,'  as  the  clown  says,  and  which, 
in  the  present  instance,  means,  '  Here  we  R ' 
at  Cannes.  Weather  lovely  and  warm;  but, 
oh !  has  n't  it  been  cold  and  disagreeable  com- 
ing so  far!  However,  now  we  are  here,  we 
are  going  to  enjoy  ourselves !  I  'm  decidedly 
better,  but  I  feel  this  enforced  rest  as  though 
I  were  handcuffed.  I  hate  being  made  to  do 
anything.  Am  I  a  mule?  I  would  have 
called  on  you  when  in  London,  but  I  was 
really  too  '  down  in  my  boots '  to  call  any- 
where. This  is  my  first  real  illness,  and  it 
cuts   rather   deeply   into   my   spirits.      I    feel 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  149 

'  Chained  to  the  Oar,'  as  Byron's  play  has 
it." 

A  little  on,  and  at  Rome,  the  wonderfully 
elastic  spirits  had  revived,  and  the  worn-out 
man  wrote: 

"  This  is  such  a  wilderness  of  art  and 
beauty !  Until  I  saw  St.  Peter's  to-day  I  never 
saw  anything  of  which  the  comic  side  did  n't 
strike  me  first.  Mind  cannot  conceive  any- 
thing so  bewilderingly  grand!  My  pen  feels 
sick  when  I  attempt  to  even  name  its  splendid 
vastness.  See  it,  and  you  '11  understand  my 
feelings  and  thoughts. 

"  The  Colosseum !  I  saw  it  yesterday.  Al- 
though it  held  nearly  100,000  people,  its  pro- 
portions are  so  exquisite  that  you  would 
almost  believe  you  could  produce  a  neat 
comedy  in  its  centre;  and  the  circumference  is 
nearly  a  third  of  a  mile!  What  a  city  it  must 
have  been !  A  perfect  shower  of  art  treasures 
bewilders  the  eye  each  minute.  Rome  is  a 
place  to  live  and  die  in.  It  utterly  swamps 
all  little  conceit  and  pride.  One  goes  to  bed 
breathing  the  atmosphere  of  immortal  genius. 
There !  You  '11  think  I  'm  idiotically  wild 
about  the  '  Eternal  City.'  Good !  Go  on  un- 
der that  impression  until  you  see  it  yourself, — 
and  then  your  wonder  will  be  that  my 
wretched  quill  did  n't  scribble  for  ever  and 
ever! " 


150  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Very  refreshing  to  him  were  the  repeated 
voyages  that  he  took  across  the  Atlantic.  His 
thorough  enjoyment  of  them  will  be  gathered 
from  the  following  extract  from  a  letter  writ- 
ten   in    characteristic    fashion    on    October    9, 

1871: 

"  Here  we  are  on  the  gay  and  festive  billow! 

Wife  a  little,  very  little  sick — Lytton  ditto — 
Miss  Roselle  a  shade  more  so — 
I 
NOT  AT  ALL!  !  ! 
Get  up  at  eight.    Bed  at  nine.    That's  your 
sort!  and  never  better  in  my 

LIFE! 
A  splendid  boat,  and  ditto  passage.     We  ex- 
pect to  get  to  New  York  by  Monday  next,  i.e., 
this  day  week.     This  will  be  posted  the  day 
we  arrive.     Food  comes !  so  I  shut  up. 


"  October  18,  New  York. 

"  Here  we  are.  Not  sick  all  the  voyage ! 
Not  one  hour!     Think  of  that!" 

How  well  in  the  bright  Dundreary  and  Gar- 
rick  days  his  handsome  face  was  everywhere 
known  and  recognised  will  be  seen  by  the  fol- 
lowing anecdote.  At  the  Theatre  Royal,  Bir- 
mingham, he  was  fulfilling  an  engagement 
while  the  Michaelmas  Onion  Fair  was  being 
held.       In  those  days,  travelling  theatres  of 


Sothern  off  the  Stage  151 

the  Richardson,  and  Bennett  and  Patch  type, 
together  with  shows  of  all  descriptions,  were 
allowed  in  the  busiest  part  of  the  town,  and, 
attracted  by  the  curious,  bustling,  noisy,  and 
by  no  means  unpleasing  scene,  Sothern  was 
soon  in  its  midst.  Having  a  fancy  to  visit  one 
of  the  penny  theatres,  and  not  anticipating 
recognition,  he  went  up  the  steps  leading  to 
the  platform  on  which,  until  a  sufficient  num- 
ber to  form  an  audience  had  been  gathered  to- 
gether, the  fantastically  costumed  performers 
paraded;  but,  just  as  he  tendered  the  modest 
entrance-fee,  the  proprietor  of  the  establish- 
ment stepped  forward,  and  said,  "  Pardon  me, 
Mr.  Sothern,  but  we  could  not  think  of  charg- 
ing the  profession!''  Inside  the  booth  it  was 
touchingly  curious  to  notice  how  these  poor 
mouthing  players  acted  "  at "  the  theatrical 
idol  of  the  day,  and  how  pleased  they  seemed 
when  he  good-naturedly  and  unrestrainedly 
applauded  their  melancholy  efforts.  It  is  per- 
haps needless  to  add  that  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  performance  the  delighted  company  had 
ample  opportunity  for  drinking  Lord  Dun- 
dreary's health. 

Sothern  had  a  wonderful  power  of  winning 
the  affection  of  men.  At  the  hospitable  table 
of  Henry  Irving  I  once  met  the  American 
tragedian  the  late  John  McCullough.  Turn- 
ing to  me  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  he  said, 


152  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

"  I  am  told  you  are  intimate  with  Ned  Soth- 
ern," and  when  I  replied  "  Yes,"  he  said,  as  if 
it  were  a  matter  of  course,  "  Then  you  love 
him." 

And  that,  of  all  men  who  "  off  the  stage " 
really  knew  him  well,  was  true. 


I 


CHAPTER  III 

SOTHERN     IN     THE     HUNTING-FIELD 

During  the  long  runs  of  the  successful  Hay- 
market  plays,  when,  no  rehearsals  being  neces- 
sary, Sothern  had  what  was  for  a  being  of  his 
enthusiastic  temperament  superabundant  time 
upon  his  hands,  outlets  were  required  for  his 
extraordinary  flow  of  animal  life  and  spirits. 
These  took  many  forms,  and  in  its  turn  fox- 
hunting occupied  much  of  his  time  and  atten- 
tion; indeed,  he  took  to  the  sport  dear  to  the 
hearts  of  most  English  gentlemen  with  a  zeal 
that  was  absolutely  intense.  Endowed  as  he 
was  in  those  days  with  an  iron  nerve,  a  splen- 
did physique,  and  abundant  means,  the  hunt- 
ing-field became  as  much  a  part  of  his  life  as 
was  the  stage,  and  in  it  he  probably  enjoyed 
some  of  the  happiest  hours  of  his  restless, 
eager  life.  It  was  difficult,  of  course,  to  hunt 
three  or  four  days  in  the  week,  and  to  appear 
every  evening  on  the  stage,  and  it  is  not  un- 
likely that  the  immense  strain  upon  his  re- 
sources that  at  this  time  he  voluntarily  put 
upon  himself  shortened  his  days;  but  he  loved 
his  horses  and  the  music  of  the  hounds;  he 
153 


154  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

could  not  disappoint  himself;  and  he  never, 
whatever  the  cost  might  be,  disappointed  the 
public. 

He  attributed  his  remarkable  immunity 
from  misadventure,  which  might  have  inter- 
fered with  his  performances,  to  the  extreme 
care  with  which  he  gave  instructions  to  his 
grooms  and  coachmen  as  to  the  times  and 
places  at  which  they  were  to  meet  him.  He 
invariably  gave  each  man  his  directions  in 
writing,  so  that  there  could  be  no  mistake, 
and  he  exacted  from  all  his  servants  the  most 
implicit  obedience  to  orders.  In  this  way  his 
plans  were  carefully  made,  and  as  carefully 
carried  out. 

Notwithstanding  these  elaborate  precautions 
mistakes  were  sometimes  very  nearly  made. 
One  day  that  he  was  out  with  the  Surrey 
stag-hounds,  he  had  a  very  narrow  escape 
of  missing  his  performance  at  the  Haymarket. 
Owing  to  the  non-arrival  of  the  train  at  the 
station  where  he  expected  to  meet  it,  he  was 
compelled  to  ride  across  country  to  a  junc- 
tion, and  there  telegraph  for  a  special  engine, 
which,  after  some  delay,  was  obtained.  By 
bribing  the  driver,  he  induced  him  to  out-run 
an  express  train  which  was  on  their  heels, 
and  got  into  town,  and  to  the  theatre,  just 
as  the  hour  for  raising  the  curtain  had  struck ; 
but,  by  pulling  a  pair  of  "  Dundreary  "  trou- 


Sothern  in  the  Hunting-Field     155 

sers  over  his  hunting-breeches,  and  hastening 
his  other  preparations,  he  was  able  to  respond 
to  the  summons  of  the  call-boy  when  it  came. 

What  a  strain  must  this  sort  of  thing  have 
been,  even  upon  his  wonderful  constitution! 
No  rest,  no  meal,  the  excitement  of  the 
saddle,  and  the  anxious  journey  to  town  ex- 
changed for  the  exacting  drolleries  of  Dun- 
dreary, the  vociferous  applause  of  a  crowded 
audience,  and  a  subsequent  supper  with 
auxious-to-be-amused,  "  good-natured  "  friends. 
Early  the  next  morning,  however,  Sothern 
would  be  ofif  to  the  nearest — or,  as  the 
whim  might  strike  him,  the  furthest — hunting 
fixture. 

In  those  days  Buckstone,  who  had  the  great- 
est contempt  for  this  peculiar  form  of  eccen- 
tricity, and  who  had  made  up  his  mind  that 
Sothern  must  sooner  or  later  either  break  his 
neck  or  fail  to  put  in  an  appearance  at  the 
right  moment,  had  always  one  of  the  old  come- 
dies ready  to  put  upon  the  stage  (after  a  few 
words  of  apology)  at  an  instant's  notice.  He 
was  never  on  Sothern's  account,  however, 
called  upon  to  change  his  bill.  The  exhausted, 
and  often  half-famished,  fox-hunter  always — 
by  hook  or  by  crook — managed  to  make  his 
stage  entrance  at  his  exact  time. 

His  love  of  the  sport,  and  his  fondness  for 
the  horses  that  were  his  sharers  in  it,  will, 


156  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

perhaps,  be  best  exemplified  by  some  extracts 
from  the  letters  which  at  that  period  he  regu- 
larly wrote  to  an  equally  enthusiastic  fox- 
hunting friend.  Almost  at  random  I  take 
from  them  as  follows: 

"  I  was  riding  my  brown  mare,  '  Kate,'  and 

she  carried  me  magnificently.     T is  right 

about  the  post  and  rails.  They  were  so  stiff 
and  high  that  several  men  shouted  at  me  not 
to  go  at  them  (remember,  we  had  been  going 
nearly  an  hour!)  ;  but  this  nigger's  blood  was 
up,  and  over  we  spun,  '  Kate '  clearing  them 
in  lovely  style,  only  four  in  the  whole  field  fol- 
lowing. Five  minutes  more,  and  a  check,  and 
then  all 's  over.  I  've  a  nasty  sore  throat,  and 
I  can't  hunt  to-day,  nor  yet  to-morrow,  I  fear. 
Too  bad!  So  near  the  wind-up  of  the  season! 
Remember,  I  expect  you  to  finish  up  with  the 
Queen's." 

"  As  you  did  not  turn  up,  I  went  with 
Heathcote's  instead  of  the  drag,  and  we  had 
a  splendid  day.  I  had  to  leave  '  Kate '  behind 
at  Leatherhead,  and  got  to  the  theatre  just 
in  time  to  go  on!  To-day  I  have  been  study- 
ing hard  since  nine  ('tis  now  four),  and  to- 
morrow I  go  with  the  Queen's.     B rides 

the  seventeen-hander  to-morrow,  with  the 
Prince's  Harriers,  for  an  eighteen-stone  man 
to  see.     I  bought  him  to  sell,  so  of  course  1 


Sothern  In  the  Hunting-Field     157 

shall  sell.  '  Kate '  and  '  Blazes '  can  do  all 
my  work.  Do  you  know  a  £150  or  £200  man 
who  wants  a  fast,  perfect  hunter  and  hack,  no 
fault,  no  vice,  a  non-refuser,  and  clever  over 
every  kind  of  fence?" 

"  Such  a  day,  yesterday,  with  Heathcote's 
stag-hounds!  Three-quarters  of  an  hour — no 
road — without  a  check!  Fifteen  minutes,  and 
away  we  go  again!  I  went  seventeen  miles, 
and  then  came  to  grief  in  a  big  ditch,  which 
threw  me  out.  I  never  saw  dogs  go  such  a 
blazing  pace.  We  were  ten  minutes  behind 
them  towards  the  end  of  the  run." 

"  A  good  average  day  with  the  Queen's  to- 
day. If  all  right  I  shall  hunt  in  Leicester- 
shire Monday  and  Tuesday.  Is  Wednesday's 
meet  a  good  one  with  the  Warwickshire,  or 
North  Warwickshire?  If  so  I  might  come  to 
Birmingham  and  hunt.  All  depends  how 
I  am.  I  enjoyed  my  day  to-day,  but  the  fences 
did  look  BIG !  " 

"  '  Topsy  '  is  nearly  fourteen  years  old — no, 
not  so  much, — she  was  rising  seven  when  I 
got  her,  and  I  've  had  her  six  years.  She 's 
never  known  a  day's  illness,  and  in  single  or 
double  harness  is  simply  perfect;  but  her  action 
is  too  corky  and  rolling  for  the  saddle,  though 
I  rode  her  for  more  than  a  year.     She  has  no 


158  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

vice,  and  is  as  gentle  as  a  child.  I  gave  either 
£160   or  £140   for  her   and   another  horse.     I 

bought  her  of  ,  the  horse-dealer,  who  can 

tell  you  all  about  her.  I  helieve  she  is  per- 
fectly sound,  and,  with  care,  good  for  another 
thirteen  years.  £100  for  the  two  is  the  very 
lowest  figure  I  would  take,  and  they  are  worth 
every  halfpenny  of  it.  Go  and  try  them,  have 
them  examined,  drive  them  yourself,  and  I 
don't  care  a  straw  whether  you  have  them  or 
not!     There!     That's   business!" 

"I  arrive"  (this  was  a  telegram  dated 
September  14,  and  referring,  of  course,  to 
cub-hunting)  "  at  five  past  one,  and  go  direct 
to  the  theatre.  Two  charming  runs  this 
morning." 

Then  follows  a  memorandum  in  his  friend's 
handwriting:  "Received  at  10.45  a.m.  Soth- 
ern was  hunting  at  5  a.m.  with  the  Duke  of 
Beaufort's  Hounds  at  Badminton.  He  arrived 
in  Birmingham  at  1.5  p.m.^  rehearsed  for  three 
hours,  dined  with  me,  and  was  ready  for  act- 
ing at  7  P.M.     Not  a  bad  day's  work ! " 

"  We  had  a  poor  day  of  it  yesterday,  but  still 
we  had  lots  of  fencing.  I  had  a  nice  oppor- 
tunity on  '  Blazes  '  of  pounding  the  huntsman, 
who  looked  so  crestfallen  that  I  gave  him  a 
sovereign  as  a  sop.  After  this  little  incident 
the  various  short  runs  consisted  of  the  hunts- 


Sothern  in  the  Hunting-Field      159 

man's  trying  to  pound  mc!  Consequently,  we 
had  it  entirely  to  ourselves  all  day,  and  he 
picked  out  the  damnedest,  baulkingest,  big- 
gest (I  never  could  spell  that  word,  and  I'm 
not  sure  whether  there  ought  n't  to  be  two  or 
three  more  'g's'  in  it!)  fences  he  could  find. 
He  rode  a  grey  thoroughbred,  and  he  and 
*  Blazes '  had  a  lively  time  of  it !  To-morrow 
I  go  with  the  Queen's,  but  a  bad  country,  near 
Uxbridge.  I  'm  game  for  Wednesday,  or  any 
other  day  this  week,  with  the  North  Warwick- 
shire or  the  Pytchley." 

"  By  invitation  of  H.R.H.  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  I  went  to  Victoria  Station  this  morn- 
ing" (the  Prince,  by  the  way,  frequently  sent 
for  him  to  go  down  to  the  meets  in  his  royal 
carriage)  "  to  accompany  him  in  his  '  special ' 
to  Horley;  but  the  infernal  snow  stopped  us, 
and  here  I  am  at  the  Cedars  again  as  cross  as 
a  bear !  I  'd  a  grand  day  on  Saturday  with 
Heathcote's.  Had  to  take  a  '  special '  myself 
from  East  Grinstead  to  Clapham  Junction. 
Got  to  Richmond  7.10,  on  the  stage  7.30. 

"  I  had  a  clinking  run  yesterday,  and  as 
fast  as  any  I  ever  was  in.  I  rode  a  powerful 
six-  or  seven-year-old  brown  Irish  horse,  up 
to  fifteen  stone,  beautifully  temperate,  a  lovely 
hack,  so  corky; — A  1  action,  fast  enough  for 
any  hounds  (carried  me  amongst  the  first  half- 


i6o  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

dozen  all  the  run),  and  a  bold,  grand  fencer. 
Steady  in  single  and  double.  He 's  been  very 
neatly  fired  over  the  curb  bones,  but  is  as 
sound  as  a  bell.  I  was  awfully  tempted  to 
buy  him,  but  I  have  already  too  many." 

"  <  The  Fenian  '  is  a  Belfast  horse,  and  has 
won  several  second-class  Irish  steeplechases. 
His  temper  was  against  him,  but  all  I  can  say 
is,  I  never  rode  a  better-mannered  animal.  He 
is  a  shade  too  fast  at  his  fences,  but  does  not 
rush.  Indeed,  he  is  so  good  that  I  dread  find- 
ing out  some  idiotic  peculiarities  in  him  that 
he  is  keeping  in  the  background  to  surprise 
me  with  some  fine  day.  '  Norah '  I  bought 
at  auction  in  Liverpool.  I  sprained  '  Kate's ' 
back  in  a  brook  nine  feet  deep.  We  simply 
disappeared!  In  her  struggle  to  get  out  she 
hurt  her  back,  and  I  fear  I  can't  hunt  her 
for  weeks,  if  ever ;  but  she 's  all  right  for 
double  harness.  It 's  a  sad  blow,  for  I  am  so 
fond  of  her ;  but  '  The  Fenian '  can  run  rings 
round  her.  Whether  he  can  fence  as  cleanly 
remains  to  be  seen.  I  dare  n't  hope  for  it,  for 
'  Kate '  was  the  cleanest,  safest  fencer  I  ever 
sat.    Alas !  alas !  " 

"  Up  to  my  eyes  in  study  and  rehearsals, 
but  managed  a  day  with  the  Queen's  yester- 
day.    We  'd  an  awfully  bad  run.     I  rode  my 


Sothern  in  the  Hunting-Field      i6i 

new  horse,  '  The  Fenian,'  and  a  friend  rode  my 
new  mare,  '  Norah.'  They  both  went  grandly. 
As  for  '  The  Fenian,'  he 's  the  best  mover  I 
ever  was  on — handsomer  than  '  Blazes,'  and 
much  faster.  Coming  from  a  stone-wall  coun- 
try, the  banks  and  ditches  seemed  to  puzzle 
him  a  little.  Some  he  calmly  took  in  a  tre- 
mendous stride.  Hedges  he  ignored,  and  went 
bang  through  them.  A  rattling  fall  or  two 
will  cure  him  of  that  fancy.  I  was  cautioned, 
'  Mind  he  does  n't  unseat  you  with  his  tremen- 
dous bounds.'  On  the  contrary,  he  never  even 
moved  me  in  the  saddle;  charmingly  elastic, 
but  so  beautifully  smooth  in  his  action.  He  's 
up  to  fourteen  stone  and  close  on  thorough- 
bred. He  blistered  my  groom's  hands  all  over 
when  merely  exercising  him,  and  it  only  proves 
how  they  ruin  horses'  mouths,  for  when  he 
found  he  could  play  with  his  bit,  and  was  n't 
going  to  be  worried,  a  child  could  have  held 
him.  He's  worth  £200  (steady  in  single  and 
double).  I  gave  £50!  !  !  Why?  He's  not 
every  one's  animal." 

In  truth,  Sothern's  animals  (for  in  those 
days  he  would  ride  anything)  were  not  every 
one's  animals,  and,  like  all  really  ardent  sports- 
men, he  delighted  in  thinking  that  he  had 
"  picked  up  for  an  old  song  "  a  valuable  horse, 
that  less  adventurous  men  would  hesitate  to 
mount.    Here  is  an  account  of  a  hunter  of 


i62  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

this  description  that  rejoiced  in  the  name  of 
"  Spots  " : 

"  I  lunched  to-day  with  a  swell  hunting-man, 
who  does  the  Duke  of  Beaufort's  regularly; 
went  to  look  at  his  horses,  etc.  I  asked  him 
if  he  knew  '  Spots.'  He  replied,  '  Rather,  con- 
sidering I  've  been  after  him  for  two  seasons.'  " 

S.    What 's  his  character? 

The  other.  The  best  animal  in  the  country — ^tem- 
perate, but  bold  and  very  fast. 

S.     Why  did  n't  you  buy  him? 

The  other.     Baillie  wanted  £300  for  him. 

S.    Is  he  worth  it? 

The  other.  Every  penny;  but  it's  over  my 
figure. 

S.    I've  bought  him! 

The  other.     The  devil  you  have! 

S.     (Nods.) 

The  other.  Well,  I  'm  d — d.  How  on  earth  did 
you  get  him? 

S.     {Explains — and   price,    etc.) 

The  other.  Well,  I  can't  account  for  his  not  sell- 
ing him  to  some  of  our  men.  He  's  losing  his  nerve, 
and  "  Spots  "  was  getting  too  much  for  him,  tem- 
perate as  he  is.  You  've  got  a  treasure,  and  if  you 
don't  like  him,  send  him  here. 

"  As  to  nags,  the  only  one  you  've  not  seen, 
I  think,  is  '  Limerick.'  Powell  of  Market 
Harboro'  gave  280  guineas  for  him  last  season. 
Williams,  the  vet.,  bought  him  at  Tat's  on 
spec,  and  let  me  have  him  for  £60.  The  cause 
of  his  sale  was  a  jarred  leg.    I  had  him  fired, 


Sothern  in  the  Hunting-Field     163 

and  he  is  now  as  sound  as  a  bell,  and  simply 
a  perfect  model, — decidedly  the  most  perfectly 
shaped  horse  I  ever  had.  A  very  dark  brown, 
close  on  thoroughbred;  up  to  fourteen  stone; 
a  long,  low  'un ;  magnificent  shoulders,  and  hips 
at  an  enormous  angle;  and  these  two  points 
meet  so  close  that  a  saddle  covers  nearly  all 
his  back, — and  still  he  's  a  long  horse !  Six- 
feet-two  girth,  and  from  his  knee  to  his  fet- 
lock joint  is  just  a  hand's  span !  Powell  says 
he  was  one  of  his  very  best  horses.  In  June 
I  shall  begin  to  exercise  him  in  double  harness, 
and  thus  get  him  into  condition  without  put- 
ting weight  on  his  back  till  September,  when 
I  believe  he  '11  prove  a  '  300  guinear.' " 

"  I  am  going  to  sell  *  Grasshopper '  and 
'  Topsy,'  my  two  carriage  horses,  because  I 
cannot  hunt  either  of  them;  and,  for  the 
future,  I  will  have  nothing  but  thoroughly  use- 
ful horses.  I  shall  then  have  Chapman's  two 
horses,  and  '  Kate,'  and  the  grey,  i.  e.,  four  car- 
riage horses,  or  hunters,  or  hacks,  and  no 
MORE !  !  I  've  only  one  neck,  and  I  've 
determined  to  have  four  good  ones." 

"  If  he  only  strikes  on  the  fetlock  joint — T 
mean,  if  the  blow  is  confined  to  a  small  place 
— there  is  nothing  like  an  india-rubber  ring 
to  hang  loosely  over  the  fetlock  joint.     If  he 


164  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

hits  a  space  of  three  or  four  inches,  a  ring 
would  be  useless,  and  a  cloth  boot  with  a 
leather  side-piece  and  four  little  buckles  is 
your  game.  But  if  it 's  the  hind  fetlock,  the 
enclosed  is  the  best  pattern,  as  it  never  turns, 
which  is  a  great  point.  The  leather  should  be 
moulded  into  the  shape  of  the  joint,  so  as  to 
sit  on  snugly.  India-rubber  boots  are  d — nable 
— stop  the  circulation,  etc.,  and  should  never 
be  used  unless  as  a  bandage  for  a  weak  ten- 
don.    There !     That 's  all  I  know  about  it !  " 

"  A  capital  day  on  Saturday "  (the  letter 
from  which  this  is  an  extract  was  written  from 
Edinburgh),  "and  'Kate'  distinguished  her- 
self over  some  nasty  doubles — a  very  rare 
fence  in  this  part  of  the  country,  and,  conse- 
quently, a  regular  stopper  to  most  of  the 
field." 

"  I  've  ridden  '  Spots  '  with  harriers.  His 
character  is  quite  correct.  He 's  reasonably 
fast  (quite  as  fast  as  'Kate'),  and  goes 
through  dirt  as  if  it  were  a  lawn!  He  won't 
'  lark ' ;  but  get  him  with  the  hounds,  and  he 's 
a  gorgeous  fencer — possibly  a  shade  too  quick ; 
but  when  he  knows  me  better  he  '11  tone  down. 
Chapman  gives  a  very  shy  account  of  '  Lim- 
erick.' He  says  he 's  a  '  floppy '  jumper,  and 
a  tremendous  puller!  We  shall  see!  I  mean 
to  hunt  him  next  week  with  the  Cheshire,  and 


Sothern  in  the  Hunting-Field     165 

shove  that  double  snaffle  in  his  mouth,  and  let 
him  pull.  If  '  Limerick '  is  not  a  fine  fencer, 
I  '11  never  judge  by  form  again  as  long  as  I 
live." 

"  If  you  want  that  black  screw  exercised  for 
a  week  or  two  (say  eight  or  ten  days  from  this), 
you  can  lend  him  to  me  to  take  to  the  Duke  of 
Beaufort's.  You  can  have  my  £700  grey  any 
time  after  the  2nd  of  February — to  hunt  her 
tail  off,  if  you  like.  There !  that 's  an  offer ; 
and  when  she  comes  you  can  jump  her  over 
your  poor  black  horse,  making  him  previously 
stand  on  four  bricks!  I  go  to  the  Duke  of 
Leinster's  on  Monday  for  two  days,  then 
straight  home  for  the  reading  of  a  new  piece 
at  the  Haymarket." 

"  Your  telegram  I  got  at  the  theatre,  and  I 
at  once  wired  to  Johnson  to  come  with  '  Kate ' 
and  '  Blazes '  to  the  '  Hen  and  Chickens '  to- 
morrow, so  please  order  two  loose-boxes  for 
the  dear  old  souls.  If  they  have  n't  loose-boxes 
I  suppose  I  must  be  content  with  stalls.  I 
shall  hunt  every  day.  The  season  is  so  nearly 
over,  I  must  make  the  most  of  it,  for  once  I 
return  to  town  no  more  hunting!  I  hear  the 
theatre  booking  for  the  week  is  splendid,  and 
as  I  had  a  tremendous  house  here  last  night  at 
double  the  usual  prices,  I  may  go  to  the  ex- 


i66  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

travagance  of  having  two  hunters  down.  My 
argument  is,  work  a  little  extra  hard,  and 
deserve  therefore  a   little  extra   hunting." 

"  Looking  over  a  letter  of  yours,  I  find  you 
want  something  about  15.3.  What  do  you  say 
to  my  chestnut  mare?  You  can  have  any 
mortal  trial,  and  it  is  thoroughly  understood 
that  I  don't  care  a  straw  if  you  don't  like  her, 
and,  consequently,  don't  keep  her.  Why  do 
I  part?  Simply  because  with  hounds  she  pulls 
too  much  for  a  cove  with  only  one  pulling  arm 
to  check  her  with,  and  she  tires  me.  She  is 
just  on,  if  not  quite,  15.3.  Legs  as  hard  as 
nails,  never  fill,  a  splendid  feeder,  no  vice  of 
any  description,  and  steady,  quite  steady,  in 
double  and  single  harness.  In  the  latter,  she 
is  always  driven  in  a  plain  hansom  cab,  double 
ring  snafile,  and  does  n't  pull  one  blessed 
ounce.  To  wind  up,  she  can  trot  fourteen 
miles  an  hour,  and  jump  any  earthly  thing  a 
horse  can  get  over ;  but,  as  I  said  before,  she 's 
not  my  horse,  'cos  she  pulls  too  much  after 
hounds.  I  'm  going  to  (for  the  future)  make 
all  my  beasts  really  useful ;  they  must  do  hunt- 
ing and  carriage-work." 

"  I  've  got  myself  rather  confused  in  my 
engagements.  I  'd  forgotten  I  dine,  hunt, 
and  sleep  at  Rothschild's  on  Thursday.    .   .   . 


Sothern  in  the  Hunting-Field     167 

We'd  a  gorgeous  run  with  Rothschild's  yes- 
terday. '  Limerick  pulls,  but  is  a  regular 
clinker,  and  can  '  stay  all  day,'  and  the  next 
as  well ! ! " 

"  I  rode  '  Limerick '  over  Blackman's  to-day, 
and  a  finer,  more  temperate  fencer  I  never 
rode.  Will  his  leg  stand?  I  doubt  it. 
You  've  evidently  got  a  clinker." 

"I've  got  an  awfully  sore  throat;  knocked 
up  in  the  middle  of  the  performance  last  night, 
and  entirely  lost  my  voice.  It 's  better  this 
morning,  though  still  very  husky  and  painful. 
It 's  a  bore,  for  I  had  arranged  to  hunt  to- 
morrow. However,  Tuesday,  please  God,  will 
see  me  in  the  saddle  again.  I  had  three  gor- 
geous days  last  week,  and  one  bad  one.  I 
must  run  down  soon  and  do  a  day  with  your 
North  Warwickshire.  Do  they  hunt  on  Mon- 
days? If  so,  I  could  come  and  stay  Sunday 
night,  and  get  up  fresh  on  Monday.  To-day 
I  'm  as  heavy  as  lead." 

"  '  Limerick  '  went  for  thirty-five  guineas.  I 
missed  his  sale  by  five  or  ten  minutes,  or  he 
would  have  run  up  to  much  more.  He  was  a 
most  steady,  valuable  horse  for  any  class  of 
work,  but  pulled  too  much  in  the  hunting-field 
for  me.  I  'm  sorry  you  did  n't  get  him.  I  '11 
sell  you  '  Miss  Wilson  '  for  twenty-five  guineas 
(I  gave  sixty).     She's  a  big,  strong,  powerful 


1 68  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

mare,  steady  in  single  and  double,  and  does  n't 
pull  one  ounce — literally!  She  can  trot  easily 
twelve  miles  an  hour;  she  is  particularly  sound, 
and  carries  a  lady  charmingly.  She  is  a  per- 
fect hack,  and  no  vice.  She  has  got  a  chronic 
cough,  but  that  never  interferes  with  her,  and 
she  is  a  slight  high-blower,  but  never  makes 
any  noise  in  harness,  however  fastly  driven, 
and  only  makes  the  slightest  noise  even  at  full 
gallop.  A  child  can  ride  or  drive  her.  I  part 
with  her  as  I  shall  now  be  away  for  seven 
months,  and  consequently  reduce  my  stable.*' 

With  bare  comment  I  give  these  passages 
from  Sothern's  fox-hunting  letters.  They  will 
themselves  show  the  extraordinary  energy  and 
delight  with  which  he  pursued  his  exacting 
pastime;  how  he  loved  his  horses;  how  minute 
and  candid  he  was  with  regard  to  their  capa- 
bilities and  (a  rare  thing  even  with  a  thorough 
sportsman)  their  faults. 

The  ink-pot  into  which  I  dip  my  pen  is  made 
out  of  a  horse's  hoof,  and  there  is  inscribed 
upon  its  silver  lid,  "  The  hoof  of  '  Blazes,'  the 
favourite  hunter  of  E.  A.  Sothern ;  killed  while 
hunting  with  Baron  Rothschild's  Hounds." 
Alas,  poor  "  Blazes ! "  His  untimely  death 
took  place  in  March,  1868,  and  concerning  it 
there  is  a  little  tale  which  my  readers  will,  I 
hope,  think  worth  telling. 


SAM'S     LETTER.      "  I     WAS     CHANGED     AT     MY     BIRTH. 


Sothern  in  the  Hunting-Field     169 

"  I  killed  poor  '  Blazes  '  the  other  day,"  wrote 
Sothern,  "  with  the  Baron's  hounds — jumped 
him  into  a  road,  met  a  cart  at  full  trot;  the 
old  woman  in  it  got  frightened,  pulled  the 
wrong  rein,  and  up  we  came,  smash — crack 
against  each  other.  The  result  was  fully 
eighteen  inches  of  shaft  broken  off  in  the  poor 
beast's  body.     I  had  him  shot  at  once." 

When  this  unfortunate  news  was  broken  to 
the  luckless  animal's  eccentric  and  not  always 
too  prudent  groom  (he  bore  the  name  of  John- 
son), he  wept  in  a  muddled  way,  and  asked, 
"Oh,  poor  old  'Blazes!'  what  did  he  say?" 
Unable  to  resist  even  this  melancholy  occasion 
for  a  "  sell,"  Sothern  replied,  "  His  last  word 
was  Johnson"  and  the  answer  was  accepted  in 
good  faith! 

The  following  extract  from  the  Field  of 
March  20,  1869,  will  give  some  notion  of  the 
dashing  fashion  in  which  he  rode  to  hounds: 

"  During  a  run  with  the  Essex  Stag-hounds, 
on  the  16th  inst.,  Mr.  Sothern  (the  celebrated 
comedian)  was  riding  a  pulling  thoroughbred 
at  one  of  the  yawning  Essex  dykes,  when  a 
gentleman  unfortunately  crossed  him,  cleared 
the  ditch  and  bank,  but  rolled  over,  horse  and 
all,  on  the  other  side.  Mr.  Sothern  thereupon 
*  put  on  steam  '  to  clear  them,  and  his  horse 
taking  a  neat  '  on  and  off '  from  the  back  of 
the  fallen  horse,  as  it  was  in  the  act  of  rising, 


lyo  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

landed  safely  a  foot  in  advance  of  the  head  of 
the  prostrate  rider." 

That  exceptional  authority,  Mr.  Bowen  May, 
the  "  father,"  as  he  is  affectionately  and  ap- 
propriately named,  of  the  Queen's  Stag-hounds, 
writes  to  me  as  follows: 

"  Sothern  and  I  hunted  together  for  years, 
and  in  one  season  with  sixteen  different  packs 
of  hounds,  having  followed  the  chase  for  five 
days  a  week.  He  always  looked  upon  me  as 
his  Mentor,  as  I  always  took  care  to  '  pull  him 
up,'  even  in  the  middle  of  a  run  with  stag- 
hounds,  so  that  he  was  able  to  keep  his  en- 
gagements at  the  theatres.  On  one  occasion, 
when  I  was  absent,  he  was  with  the  Surrey 
Stag-hounds,  and  only  kept  an  engagement  at 
the  Richmond  Theatre  by  running  a  special 
train  from  Three  Bridges,  and  then  by  catch- 
ing a  down-train  at  Clapham  Junction;  and 
then,  having  no  time  to  change  his  garments, 
he  appeared  on  the  stage  and  played  his  part 
in  a  '  cover '  coat.  The  Prince  of  Wales  al- 
ways sent  for  him  when  H.R.H.  went  from 
Paddington  and  to  the  Slough  meets,  to  join 
him  in  his  railway-carriage. 

"  Sothern  was  a  bold  rider,  and  was  always 
well  mounted,  and  as  his  horses  were  gener- 
ally pullers,  and  as  he  had  a  damaged  wrist, 
he  could  not  hold  them.  Having  to  '  let  them 
go,'  and  being  only  about  a  ten-stone  man,  he 


Sothern  in  the  Hunting-Field]     171 

was  always  in  the  '  first  flight '  with  the  packs, 
whether  they  were  fox-  or  stag-hunters." 
In  1871,  Sothern  wrote  from  New  York: 
"  We  remain  here  eight  weeks,  then  Boston 
for  three,  Philadelphia  for  three,  etc.,  etc.,  etc., 
then  New  York  again  in  April,  and  home  in 
May.  But  I  must  come  again  in  December 
and  stay  a  year,  and  then  retire  and 

HUNT 

the  rest  of  my  life  !  !  ! " 

This  dream  was  never  realised,  and,  oddly 
enough,  in  later  years,  Sothern  entirely  lost 
his  love  of  horses  and  hunting,  declaring  that 
salmon-fishing  was  the  only  sport  worthy  of 
the  name.  This  he  followed  with  the  same 
eager  and  restless  enthusiasm. 

"  I  am  going,"  he  wrote,  "  to  have  some  mag- 
nificent salmon-fishing  in  June  and  July.  I 
have  rented  thirty-nine  miles  of  the  best  Cana- 
dian river,  and  I  and  three  friends  will  whip 
it  for  six  or  eight  weeks.  It  is  eighty  miles 
away  from  civilisation.  We  camp  out,  Indian 
tents,  bear-shooting,  rising  by  daybreak,  going 
to  roost  seven  p.m.,  and  leading  the  most 
primitive  life  possible.  A  friend  of  mine  fished 
there  last  year,  and  the  average  weight  of 
his  salmon  was  19  lb.,  the  smallest  8  lb.,  the 
largest  39  lb." 

"  You   will    find   them    the   best   and   hand- 


172  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

somest  rods  in  England.  I  caught  a  471/^  lb. 
salmon  the  other  day  with  my  salmon-rod  and 
a  single  gut,  and  my  rod  is  precisely  the  same 
as  yours." 

But  Sothern  was  enthusiastic  in  small  things 
as  well  as  great.  Here  is  a  letter  in  which  he 
speaks  of  a  very  ordinary-looking  blackbird 
which  he  used  to  keep,  and  make  much  of,  in  a 
wicker  cage  at  his  house  (this  was  after  the 
bright  Kensington  "Cedars"  days  were  over), 
No.  121,  in  Harley  Street: 

"  I  am  glad  you  like  the  blackbird,"  he  wrote 
"he  was  leaving  on  a  prolonged  provincial 
tour,  and  had  begged  me  to  find  a  home  for 
the  poor  caged  creature)  ;  '^  I  was  very,  very 
proud  of  him."  There  is  something  refreshing 
in  the  thought  that  this  actively  engaged  man, 
who  was  ever  rolling  two  lives  into  one,  could 
find  time  in  which  to  be  "  very,  very  proud  " 
of  a  rather  inferior,  and  (as  far  as  my  experi- 
ence of  him  went)  an  absolutely  songless 
blackbird ! 


CHAPTER  IV 

SOTHERN  IN  HIGH   SPIRITS 

No  memoir  of  Sothern  would  be  complete 
without  allusion  being  made  to  his  curious 
and  humorous,  if  not  altogether  satisfactory, 
mania  for  ''  practical  joking."  For  the  greater 
part  of  his  life  it  absolutely  possessed  him  and 
it  no  doubt  had  its  origin  in  the  investigations 
into  so-called  "  spiritualism,"  which  in  the 
pre-Dundreary  American  days  he  (with  char- 
acteristic enthusiasm)  occupied  himself.  The 
story  of  these  researches,  and  their  outcome, 
was  so  well  told  by  himself  in  a  letter  that  in 
1865,  he  felt  called  upon  to  write  to  an  Eng- 
lish newspaper,  that  it  may  very  fittingly  form 
a  commencement  to  this  chapter.  It  ran  as 
follows : 

"  Sir, 

"  There  is  an  article  in  the  Spiritual  Maga- 
zine in  which  I  am  referred  to.  I  should  not 
dream  of  noticing  any  article  in  any  such  pub- 
lication, had  I  not  found  respectable  and 
rational  journals  such  as  yours  reproducing 
statements  affecting  my  credit  and  candour. 
173 


1 74  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

I  consider  it  due  to  the  conductors  of  the 
daily  press  of  these  countries,  as  well  as  to 
myself,  to  notice  remarks  on  me  and  on  my 
conduct  when  I  find  them  transferred  to  their 
columns.  Had  they  not  been  excavated  from 
the  gloomy  obscurity  of  their  original  source 
they  might  never  have  attracted  my  observa- 
tion, and  certainly  would  never  have  obtained 
my  notice. 

"  Possibly  it  may  be  thought  that  I  am  do- 
ing this  spiritual  publication  a  service  by 
bringing  it  into  notice.  I  do  not  think  so. 
When  you  prosecute  a  pickpocket,  you  go  be- 
fore the  bench  as  a  matter  of  duty;  the  pick- 
pocket is  certainly  brought  into  public  pro- 
minence for  the  time,  but  it  is  only  that  he 
may  be  the  more  effectually  recognised,  pun- 
ished, and  exposed.  Nobody,  I  suspect,  will 
be  perverted  to  a  belief  in  spiritualism  by 
reading  an  exposition  of  spiritual  writers. 

"  Now  for  the  article.  The  main  count  in 
the  indictment  against  me  is  thus  stated: 

"  '  A  few  years  ago,  a  party  of  spiritualists 
in  New  York,  composed  chiefly  of  actors  and 
actresses,  held  regular  sittings  for  the  produc- 
tion of  spiritual  phenomena.  One  of  the  mem- 
bers of  this  circle  was  an  actor  named  Stuart, 
who  was  recognised,  by  all  as  a  most  powerful 
medium.  The  manifestations  witnessed  at 
these  seances  were  so  wonderful  as  to  give  to 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  175 

the  meeting  the  distinguishing  title  of  "  The 
Miracle  Circle."  They  created  so  much  inter- 
est that  it  was  considered  a  special  privilege 
to  be  admitted  to  this  magic  chamber.  Mr. 
Stuart  at  that  period  was  better  known 
as  Stuart  the  magnetiser,  or  magic  worker, 
than  Stuart  the  actor.' 

"  The  '  actor  named  Stuart '  is  now  better 
known  as  the  '  actor  named  Sothern.'  Follow- 
ing sufficiently  illustrious  precedents,  I  used 
an  assumed  named  when  I  entered  on  my  pro- 
fession, and  I  only  resumed  my  own  by  the  ad- 
vice of  my  friend,  Mr.  James  Wallack.  The 
'  party  of  spiritualists'  was  not  composed 
chiefly  of  '  actors  and  actresses.'  It  would 
have  been  none  the  worse  if  it  had  been ;  but  in 
reality  it  was  composed  of  twelve  gentlemen 
of  high  position  in  their  respective  professions, 
who,  actuated  by  a  common  curiosity  and  in- 
terest, joined  in  a  thorough,  practical,  and 
exhaustive  investigation  of  the  phenomena  of 
'  spiritualism.'  We  were  quite  ready  for  either 
result:  to  believe  it,  if  it  were  true;  to  reject 
it,  if  found  false;  and  in  the  latter  case  I,  at 
least,  resolved  in  due  time  to  expose  it.  For 
more  than  two  years  we  had  weekly  meetings. 
At  these,  by  practice,  we  had  succeeded  in  pro- 
ducing not  only  all  the  wonderful  '  manifesta- 
tions '  of  the  professional  '  media,'  but  other 
effects  still  more  startling.     We  simply  tried 


176  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

to  reproduce  the  appearances  and  the  results 
which  we  had  heard  of,  and  read  of,  and  seen 
— and  we  succeeded.  Pushing  our  practice 
and  experiments  further,  we  attained  the  ca- 
pacity to  execute  feats  much  more  remarkable 
than  those  presented  at  any  of  the  spiritual 
seances.  An  American  gentleman  and  myself 
took  the  part  of  the  '  media ' ;  the  rest  of  the 
company  assisted;  and  I  do  not  hesitate  to 
say  that  we  outdid  anything  ever  attempted  or 
accomplished  by  Home,  or  the  Davenports,  or 
any  of  the  other  more  notorious  spiritual 
exhibitors. 

"  Not  the  least  of  our  discoveries  was  that 
the  whole  thing  was  a  myth.  We  did  all  that 
the  spiritualists  did,  and  more;  but  we  were 
our  own  *  agents,'  and  had  no  need  of  recourse 
to  supernatural  influences,  had  we  had  the 
power  to  command  them.  We  commenced  our 
seances  in  a  spirit  of  legitimate  investigation; 
we  continued  them  for  the  sake  of  the  amuse- 
ment they  gave  ourselves  and  our  friends. 
We  became  famous  in  a  small  way.  We  had 
to  start  an  engagement  book,  and  to  make  ap- 
pointments. People  came  from  all  parts  of 
America,  and  waited  for  their  turn.  We  got 
into  a  larger  line  of  business  than  any  of  the 
professional  exhibitors,  and  we  were  exten- 
sively patronised.  The  only  difference  was, 
we    did  n't    charge    anything.     We    took    no 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  177 

money,  directly  or  indirectly.  Our  enter- 
tainment, being  free,  was  liberally  supported; 
and  when  I  add  that  the  evenings  invariably 
wound  up  with  a  jolly  little  supper,  given 
solely  at  our  own  expense,  it  may  be  under- 
stood that  '  The  Miracle  Circle '  was  much 
favoured  and  warmly  encouraged.  The  in- 
dulgence of  our  love  of  fun  cost  us  some 
money,  but  yielded  us  an  immensity  of  pleas- 
ure. To  speak  colloquially,  it  was  an  expen- 
sive but  extensive  '  sell.'  We  did  put  pens 
under  the  table,  and  get  signatures  of  Shake- 
speare, and  Garrick,  and  other  valuable  auto- 
graphs; we  did  produce  spirit-hands  and 
spirit-forms;  people  did  float  in  the  air — at 
least,  we  made  our  audience  really  believe  they 
did,  which  was  quite  sufficient  for  our  purpose 
and  theirs.  We  exhibited  phenomena  which 
were  startling  enough  in  all  conscience,  and  we 
made  our  visitors  believe  in  their  reality.  How 
we  succeeded  in  doing  this — how  we  made  some 
of  the  most  intelligent  men  in  America  be- 
lieve that  they  really  saw  and  felt  what  they 
only  fancied  they  saw  and  felt — how  we  pro- 
duced results  the  causes  of  which  were  not 
apparent  to  the  physical  senses  of  the  specta- 
tors— how,  in  fine,  we  did  things  which  must 
have  seemed  to  be,  and  what  many  of  our 
visitors  believed  to  be,  supernatural  and 
miraculous,  I  do  not  intend  to  explain.  We  did 


178  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

them;  how  we  did  them  I  do  not  feel  any  mo- 
tive to  declare;  but  I  have  not  the  slightest 
hesitation  in  saying  that  we  did  not  do  them 
by  spiritual  agencies.  Yet  professional  and 
paid  '  media '  came  and  saw,  and  themselves 
avowed  our  superior  power  over  '  the  spirits ! ' 

"  I  have  been  told  by  many  scientific  per- 
sons— even  in  this  city  where  I  am  now  re- 
siding— that  I  am  a  '  wonderful  psychologist.' 
It  is  extremely  pleasant  and  very  flattering 
to  be  told  that.  Perhaps  I  am  a  '  wonderful 
psychologist ' — I  hope  I  am ;  but  I  doubt  it. 
At  all  events,  whatever  psychological  or  quasi- 
spiritual  powers  I  may  possess,  I  have  never 
exhibited  them  in  public;  I  have  never  made 
money  by  displaying  them;  I  have  recognised 
the  difference  between  performing  an  interest- 
ing and  amusing  delusion  to  entertain  myself 
and  a  private  company,  and  swindling  the  pub- 
lic by  taking  guineas  from  people  for  showing 
them  as  '  spiritual  manifestations,'  feats  which 
I  could  perform  by  physical  and  mechanical 
forces  of  my  own. 

"  I  do  not  know  the  Messrs.  Davenport ;  I 
never  saw  them  but  once,  when  I  paid  some 
fifteen  shillings,  I  believe,  and  came  away 
powerfully  impressed  with  the  conviction  that 
either  their  supporters  and  believers  were 
mad,  or  that  I  was,  and  yet  with  a  comfort- 
able belief  in  my  own  sanity.     I  had  nothing 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  179 

to  do  with  their  memorable  exposures  in  Eng- 
land and  France. 

"  The  object  of  this  writer  in  the  Spiritual 
Magazine  has  been  to  represent  me  as  having 
exhibited  '  spiritual  manifestations '  in  Amer- 
ica, and  having  exposed  them  here.  I  have 
stated,  I  hope  clearly,  that  I  did  produce  all 
the  '  manifestations '  and  did  exhibit  them, 
but  they  were  not  '  spiritual,'  and  I  did  not 
exhibit  them  in  public,  nor  for  money.  I  there- 
fore consider  myself  free  from  the  imputa- 
tions of  having  obtained  money  under  false 
pretences,  encouraged  idle  superstitions,  or 
perpetrated  blasphemous  burlesques  of  sacred 
things.  I  look  upon  every  spiritualist  as 
either  an  impostor  or  an  idiot.  I  regard  every 
spiritual  exhibitor  who  makes  money  by  his 
exhibitions  as  a  swindler.  The  things  that 
these  people  do  are  not  done  by  spiritual  or 
supernatural  means.  I  know  that;  I  have 
proved  it.  I  have  done  all  that  they  can  do, 
and  more.  The  history  of  '  spiritualism '  in 
this  country  and  America  is,  on  the  one  hand, 
a  chronicle  of  imbecility,  cowardly  terror  of 
the  supernatural,  wilful  self-delusion,  and 
irreligion;  and  on  the  other,  of  fraud  and 
impudent  chicanery,  and  blasphemous  inde- 
cency. I  do  not  say  that  there  are  not  more 
things  in  heaven  and  earth  than  are  dreamt  of 
in  our  philosophy;  but  I  do  say,  that  as  the 


i8o  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

result  of  such  a  practical  investigation  of 
'  spiritualism '  as  I  believe  few  other  men  have 
made,  I  must  honestly  and  fearlessly  denounce 
it  as  a  mockery,  a  delusion,  a  snare,  and  a 
swindle. 

"  Yours,  etc., 

"  E.    A.    SOTHBRN. 

"  Theatre  Royal,  Glasgow, 
December  6,  1865." 

Yes,  these  American  spiritualistic  experi- 
ments, and  the  success  which  attended  them, 
undoubtedly  gave  Sothern  his  insatiable  taste 
for  practical  joking.  He  had  learnt  how 
easily  people  could  be  gulled;  he  had  become 
an  adept  in  all  the  little  arts  and  contrivances 
necessary  for  such  purposes;  he  had  acquired 
a  relish  for  "  selling  "  (he  used  this  word  in 
his  letter,  and  it  was  with  him  a  favourite 
one)  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  both 
friends  and  strangers;  and  sq  when,  in  the 
days  of  his  popularity  and  the  long  runs  of 
his  pieces,  he  had  plenty  of  time  on  his  hands, 
he  mounted  and  furiously  rode  his  hobby  horse. 

Before  I  give  instances  of  his  more  elabo- 
rate enterprises  in  this  direction,  I  will  speak 
of  the  odd  freaks  that  he  delighted  to  play  with 
the  post.  On  one  occasion,  when  he  was  play- 
ing in  a  country  theatre,  the  local  postmaster 
refused  to  receive  and  forward  a  package  be- 
cause it  was  just  a  trifle  over  the  regulation 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  i8i 

limits.  Sothern  was  annoyed  at  what  he  con- 
sidered official  obstructiveness,  and,  having 
obtained  from  the  postmaster  the  precise  limits 
(particularly  with  regard  to  weight)  of  the 
parcels  he  would  receive,  he  went  to  a  hat- 
ter's shop  in  the  town,  and  purchased  two 
dozen  of  empty  hat-boxes  of  the  usual  card- 
board make.  These  he  addressed  by  aid  of 
the  local  directory  to  the  principal  inhabi- 
tants of  a  notably  breezy  suburb,  and  from  a 
dozen  different  offices  had  them  posted.  His 
delight  at  seeing  the  local  postman  staggering 
along  in  a  high  wind  with  the  huge  pile  of  hat- 
boxes  on  his  back  was  infinite,  and  in  the  next 
town  that  he  visited  he  repeated  the  perform- 
ance, only  varying  it  by  addressing  the  two 
dozen  boxes  to  one  individual.  Often  and 
often,  as  he  recalled  the  incident,  have  I  heard 
Sothern  say  how  much  he  would  have  given  to 
have  seen  the  face  of  this  unknown  person 
when  the  boxes  had  been  stacked  away  in  his 
hall. 

Playing  pranks  with  the  post  became  from 
this  point  his  almost  daily  practice.  He  had 
his  envelopes  printed  with  all  sorts  of  odd 
devices,  such  as,  "  Refuge  for  Reformed  Athe- 
ists," "  Mail  Boat  Betsy  Jane,"  "  Society  for 
the  Propagation  of  Pure  Deism,"  "  Troop  Ship 
Crocodile,"  "  Asylum  for  Confirmed  Virgins," 
"  Court  of  Faculties,"  "  Boodles'  Bee  Hive,"  and 


1 82  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

(these  were  evidently  designed  to  strike  terror 
into  the  soul  of  the  nervous  letter  receiver) 
"  Southwell  Smallpox  Hospital,"  "  Home  for 
Incurable  Itch,"  and  ''  Curious  Specimen  of 
Contagious  Bedding."  In  the  last  named  he 
would  usually  enclose  a  small  piece  of  linen 
or  a  fragment  cut  from  a  blanket.  Then  he 
had  a  practice  of  addressing  an  envelope  in 
pencil  to  a  friend,  say,  in  Brussels,  writing  to 
that  friend  to  rub  out  the  address  and  re- 
direct the  letter  in  pencil  to  a  friend  in  Glas- 
gow, and  so  successively  sending  the  letter 
round  a  dozen  places  until  the  envelope  was 
almost  covered  with  postmarks.  Then,  hav- 
ing got  it  back  from  the  last  of  his  correspond- 
ents, he  would  erase  the  pencilled  address, 
and,  putting  in  ink  the  name  and  residence  of 
a  gentleman  in  a  London  Square,  and  enclos- 
ing an  invitation  to  dinner  for  a  date  a  month 
old,  he  would  revel  in  the  confident  expecta- 
tion that  the  recipient,  utterly  unable  to  con- 
ceive why  a  plainly  addressed  letter  to  "  Mr. 
Suchaone,  Lowndes  Square,"  should  have  been 
sent  round  by  Brussels,  Glasgow,  Dublin, 
Brighton,  Inverness,  Chester,  Northampton, 
Cork,  Scarborough,  etc.,  would  indignantly 
complain  to  the  Postmaster-General,  who  would 
in  the  usual  routine  send  the  letter  again  on 
its  rounds  to  the  bewilderment  of  all  the 
postmasters. 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  183 

One  of  these  extraordinary  postmark-be- 
studded  envelopes  is  before  me  now,  stamped 
Edinburgh,  Bradford,  Glasgow,  Rio  de  Ja- 
neiro, Liverpool,  Dundee,  London,  Suez  Canal, 
and,  finally,  Birmingham. 

Another  trick  of  his  was  to  withdraw  the 
letters — anybody's  letters — from  the  post- 
rack  of  any  country  house  in  which  he  might 
happen  to  be  staying,  and  write  on  the  outside 
of  their  envelopes  such  preposterous  but  per- 
plexing messages  as,  "  I  will  bring  the  five 
peacocks  with  me  on  Saturday "  (this  to  a 
lady  living  on  a  London  flat!),  "How  are  you 
getting  on  with  the  cockroaches  now?"  and 
so  on.  By  the  way,  he  always  used  to  declare 
that  this  old  habit  of  his  of  writing  messages 
on  the  reverse  side  of  stuck-down  envelopes 
(and  he  would  frequently  adopt  this  plan  in 
the  carrying  on  of  his  own  correspondence) 
was  the  means  of  bringing  in  the  useful  half- 
penny post-card. 

The  liberties  that  he  would  take  with  his 
addresses  were  extraordinary.  Here  is  an 
example : 

Smith 
John\JSm2/ik4,  Esq., 

(my  throat 's  so  sore  it  seems  I  can't 
even  spell) 

Square, 

Blackhampton. 


184  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Now  and  then  some  of  Sothern's  victims 
would  attempt  retaliation,  but  seldom  with 
success;  and  now  that  I  am  dealing  with  his 
post-office  pranks,  I  may  as  well  tell  the  fol- 
lowing anecdote.  A  gallant  officer  in  a 
cavalry  regiment,  whom  Sothern  had  "  sold," 
determined  on  revenge,  and  elaborately  con- 
cocted a  missive,  purporting  to  be  written  by 
a  fair  lady,  suggesting  a  rendezvous.  The  let- 
ter was  carefully  prepared  on  plain  paper,  was 
enclosed  in  an  envelope  without  crest,  mono- 
gram, or  other  distinguishing  mark,  and  was 
duly  posted;  but  the  gallant  composer  forgot 
that  the  plain  paper  he  was  using  bore  a  water- 
mark with  the  name  of  his  club.  On  receipt  of 
the  letter  Sothern  easily  detected  the  attempted 
hoax,  and  proceeded  to  pay  off  its  would-be 
perpetrator.  He  went  to  a  shop  in  a  side- 
street  off  Regent  Street,  and  purchased  from 
a  dealer  in  human  hair  a  long  tress  of  the  red- 
dest hue  and  coarsest  texture  that  he  could 
find.  Having  had  this  love-lock  carefully  oiled 
by  his  groom,  he  attached  to  it  a  parchment 
label   addressed,  in  feminine  handwriting,  to 

Captain ,  at,  let  us  say,  the  Plungers'  Club, 

where  he  knew  it  was  the  custom  to  place  the 
members'  letters  on  a  large  table  in  the  hall. 
Captain (as  Sothern  well  knew)  hap- 
pened to  be  out  of  town  for  a  few  days,  during 
which  time  his  brother-officers  enjoyed  the  de- 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  185 

light  of  inspecting  the  "  auburn  "  tress,  and, 
on  his  return  to  town,  the  pleasure  of  merci- 
lessly chaffing  their  comrade. 

Another  man  who  tried  to  pay  back  Sothern 
in  his  own  coin  by  sending  him  a  bogus  tele- 
gram which  took  him  away,  on  a  fool's  errand, 
to  Liverpool,  had  an  extraordinary  punish- 
ment. With  unexampled  audacity,  Sothern 
announced  his  too-daring  friend's  death  in  the 
papers,  at  the  same  time  advertising  the  sale 
of  his  furniture  by  an  auction,  "  at  which  only 
Jews  ivould  be  allowed  to  purchase"! 

The  bogus  telegram  was  an  all-too-favourite 
instrument  of  warfare  with  Sothern  himself, 
and  he  would  think  nothing  of  "  wiring  "  to  a 
friend  in  a  distant  part  as  follows: 

"  Poor  Suchaone "  (naming  a  complete 
stranger)  "  died  last  night  at  ten  o'clock. 
Please  arrange  for  the  reception  of  his  re- 
mains in  your  town  to-morrow  morning  " ;  and 
this  would  be  followed  by  another,  saying, 
"  His  poor  wife  and  children  will  start  by  the 
12,30  train.  For  pity's  sake,  meet  and  console 
them.  You  will  find  the  wife  pretty,  and  the 
children  most  interesting.  Your  kindness  will 
be  appreciated  by  all  parties." 

I  think  that  it  must  have  been  these  postal 
and  telegraphic  feats  that  set  Sothern  think- 
ing that  something  odd  and  whimsical  ought 
to  be  done  with  letter-carrying  pigeons.    Cer- 


i86  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

tainly  I  know  that  while  filling  a  professional 
engagement  in  a  provincial  town,  celebrated 
for  the  fanciers  of  "  homing  birds,"  he  took 
extraordinary  pains,  and  spent  a  good  deal  of 
money,  to  procure  some  of  "  the  right  sort " ; 
but,  except  a  marvellous  story  that  he  used 
with  much  unction  to  relate,  I  do  not  think 
that  out  of  this  notion  anything  came.  I  will 
relate  it  in  his  own  words: 

"  I  used  to  get  a  lot  of  fellows  together  in 
the  billiard-room  at  home"  (Sothern's  circle 
of  acquaintance  was  a  large  one,  and  on  the 
occasions  when  this  trick  was  aired  he  no 
doubt  secured  the  attendance — and  I  was  not 
one  of  them — of  the  most  credulous  among 
his  friends) ,  "  and  after  we  had  smoked  and 
chatted  for  a  time  some  one,  who  would  be  in 
my  confidence,  would  lead  the  conversation 
up  to  pigeon-flying  and  the  wonderful  exploits 
of  the  extraordinary  birds  in  my  possession. 
At  this  I  would  express  annoyance,  and  my 
friends  asking  '  Why  ? '  I  would  say,  '  Oh,  no- 
body believes  what  my  birds  have  done,  and  can 
do,  and  since  I  am  very  fond  of  them,  and, 
after  all,  only  keep  them  for  my  own  amuse- 
ment, I  don't  somehow  care  to  hear  them 
slightingly  talked  of.  Let  us  change  the  sub- 
ject.' After  this,  of  course,  no  one  would 
change  the  subject,  and  some  extraordinary 
pigeon  yarns  were  told  by  my  confidant,  my- 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  187 

self,  and  other  men  who  did  not  like  to  appear 
ignorant  on  the  matter.  Then  I  would  say, 
with  a  smile,  '  Ah,  if  only  old  Jim  was  at  his 
best  I  could  show  these  fellows  what  a  pigeon 
could  really  do ! '  '  Old  Jim ! '  my  confeder- 
ate would  cry  out.  '  What !  you  don't  mean 
to  say  that  he 's  alive  still — the  bird  that  came 
home  from  the  Himalayas,  and  that  has 
crossed  the  Atlantic  a  hundred  and  fifty 
times?'  'Oh,  come,  come,  that's  rather  too 
much ! '  some  one  would  now  be  sure  to  say. 
'  I  don't  believe  that ! '  '  Then,  damme,  sir, 
you  shall  believe  it ! '  I  would  answer,  ring- 
ing the  bell  in  apparent  ill-temper,  and  in- 
structing the  servant  to  bring  in  old  Jim ;  and 
then,  when  in  a  wicker  cage  that  eighteen- 
penny  impostor  made  his  appearance,  I  would 
take  him  out,  and,  stroking  his  feathers,  say: 
'  Yes,  there 's  the  bird  that  has  brought  home 
to  my  family  a  report  of  my  receipts  from 
every  provincial  town  in  the  three  kingdoms, 
who  has  secured  me  one  or  two  splendid  Ameri- 
can engagements,  to  whose  swift  wings,  in- 
deed, I  owe  much  of  my  success.  Poor  old 
Jim !  He 's  had  the  pip,  he 's  got  the  roup, 
and  some  day  he'll  moult  for  the  last  time; 
but  his  work 's  done,  and  if  it  costs  me  a 
thousand  a  year  he  '11  now  roost  in  peace  un- 
til the  end  of  his  days.'  '  Could  n't  you,'  my 
confederate  would  now  say,  '  send  Jim  just  a 


1 88  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

little  distance,  just  to  show  how  extraordinary 
his  powers  are? '  And  then,  after  much  re- 
fusal and  more  persuasion,  I  would  say,  '  Well, 
well,  he  shall  go  just  as  far  as  Blisworth  with 
a  message  to  Jones.  I  dare  say,  after  all,  a 
little  night-fly  like  that  will  freshen  the  dear 
old  boy  up.'  Then  the  message  to  Jones  would 
be  written,  affixed  to  Jim's  wing,  and  through 
the  window  the  bird  would  be  released.  After 
an  hour  of  billiards  and  general  talk,  relieved 
with  good  cigars  and  anything  in  the  way  of 
refreshment  that  anybody  cared  to  take,  a 
fluttering  at  the  window-panes  would  be  heard, 
and,  rushing  out,  I  would  return  with  an  ex- 
hausted and  bedraggled  Jim,  faithfully  bear- 
ing Jones's  reply  to  my  message.  Believe  it 
or  not  as  you  will,  not  one  of  the  people  who 
witnessed  this  thing  ever  realised  the  absurd- 
ity of  sending  a  pigeon  to  a  place  to  bring  a 
message  back  from  it.  They  received  Jim's 
double  as  a  prodigy,  and  wended  their  inno- 
cent ways  homeward,  placidly  murmuring 
*  Marvellous ! '  " 

For  the  successful  carrying  out  of  many  of 
Sothern's  elaborately  planned  joke®,  it  was 
necessary  that  he  should  have  the  services  of 
a  confederate  only  second  to  himself,  and  there 
existed  no  class  of  people  that  he  better  loved 
to  "  sell "  than  those  who,  when  his  escapades 
had   become   notorious,   desired,   without   any 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  189 

qualification  for  the  task,  to  act  in  that  diffi- 
cult and  delicate  capacity. 

On  one  occasion  a  somewhat  imbecile  young 
man,  who  had  a  slight  acquaintance  with  him, 
and  who  loved  to  boast  to  his  club-friends  of 
his  close  intimacy  with  the  most  popular  actor 
of  the  day,  said  to  him  how  much  he  would 
like  to  take  a  part  in  one  of  these  jokes.  "  And 
so  you  shall,  my  boy,"  said  Sothern,  clapping 
him  on  the  shoulder  and  taking  him  apart, 
"  for  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  from  the  very 
first  moment  that  I  saw  you  I  recognised  the 
fact  that  you,  above  all  living  men,  under- 
stand me  and  my  ways.  We  ought  to  have 
been  brothers !  "  A  scheme  was  soon  planned. 
On  that  very  night,  which,  by  the  way,  prom- 
ised to  be  a  stormy  one,  Sothern  was  expected 
at  a  supper-party,  and  it  was  agreed  that  the 
now  thoroughly  flattered  and  delighted  young 
man  should  find  his  way  on  to  the  roof  of  the 
house,  and  station  himself  close  to  the  chim- 
ney communicating  with  the  room  in  which 
the  guests  would  be  assembled.  The  idea  was 
this'  Sothern  was  to  lead  the  conversation  up 
to  ventriloquism,  and  a  confederate  in  the 
room  was  at  once  to  say  what  a  wonderful 
master  of  that  peculiar  power  he  was  known 
to  be.  When  pressed  to  do  so,  Sothern  was 
to  modestly  say  that  he  would  see  what  he 
could  do  to  amuse  the  company,  and,  talking 


I  go  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

up  the  chimney  from  the  room,  he  was  to  be 
answered  by  the  somewhat  imbecile  young  man 
on  the  roof.  Being  perfectly  arranged,  every- 
thing went  well.  Although  he  professed  to  be 
somewhat  out  of  practice,  Sothern  had  by  these 
means  at  the  very  commencement  of  the  even- 
ing performed  such  wonderful  feats  of  ven- 
triloquism, that  when  the  party  sat  down  to 
supper  it  was  generally  agreed  that  in  future 
the  redoubtable  "  Valentine  Vox "  must  be 
thought  of  little  account.  Now,  however,  he 
asked,  on  account  of  a  tired  and  unpractised 
voice,  to  be  excused  from  giving  further  dem- 
onstrations of  his  skill — the  fact  being  that  as 
supper  was  served  in  another  room  he  could 
no  longer  carry  on  a  conversation  with  his 
ambitious  young  friend  on  the  roof.  At  this 
point  it  had  been  agreed  that  he  should  revisit 
terra  firma,  but  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say 
that  Sothern  had  made  arrangements  by  vir- 
tue of  which  the  ladder  which  had  aided  in  the 
ascent  was  by  this  time  removed.  He  had, 
however,  reckoned  without  his  host,  and  the 
last  two  acts  of  this  entertainment  were  un- 
rehearsed ones.  By  hook  or  by  crook  the 
young  man,  in  despair  at  finding  his  ladder 
gone,  found  his  way  to  the  chimney  of  the  sup- 
per-room, and  lustily  called  down  it,  "  Soth- 
ern !  For  Heaven's  sake,  come  and  help  me ! 
I  can't  get  down,  and  it 's  raining  like  mad !  " 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits         191 

For  a  moment  Sothern  was  taken  aback,  and 
felt  that  the  whole  trick  was  about  to  be  ex- 
posed, when,  to  his  delight  and  amazement, 
the  company  rose  as  one  man,  and  declared 
that  anything  half  so  marvellous  in  the  way 
of  ventriloquism  had  never  before  been  at- 
tempted or  achieved.  "  Why,"  cried  his  en- 
thusiastic host,  "  you  said  you  were  tired  and 
out  of  practice!  you  declared  you  could  do  no 
more,  and  yet,  at  the  very  moment  that  you 
were  apparently  talking  to  me,  your  voice  came 
down  the  chimney  again  with  a  force  un- 
paralleled !  "  It  was  not  in  Sothern's  nature 
to  deny  the  flattering  impeachment,  but,  in  the 
midst  of  the  congratulations  that  were  now 
showered  upon  him,  his  voice  came  down  the 
chimney  in  such  much  greater  force,  and  be- 
gan to  be  identified  with  so  much  strong  lan- 
guage (the  company  unsuspectingly  regarded 
this  as  a  continued  manifestation  of  his 
"power"),  that  he  suggested  that  he  should 
once  more  give  amusement  by  carrying  on  a 
short  conversation.  This  he  did,  and  in  it 
artfully  contrived  to  persuade  his  victim  that 
if  he  would  remain  quiet  for  a  very  short  time 
he  would  come  and  help  him  down — which 
now,  for  obvious  reasons,  was  the  best  thing 
that  he  could  do;  but,  as  luck  would  have  it, 
before  the  specified  short  time  had  elapsed 
some    one    in    the   room,    imitating    Sothern's 


192  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

voice,  called  up  the  chimney,  "Are  you  still 
there?"  and  this  proving  the  last  straw  upon 
the  rain-drenched  back  of  the  much-enduring 
young  man,  he  replied — and,  unfortunately,  he 
accompanied  his  incisive  words  with  a  piece  of 
slate  or  mortar,  or  some  other  roof-top  missile 
that  he  had  managed  to  find — "  Oh,  go  to 
H— 1 !  !  !  " 

Sothern  bolted  from  the  room  and  from  the 
house.  I  am  afraid  that  he  lost  his  quickly 
acquired  fame  as  a  ventriloquist,  and  I  do 
not  think  that  he  any  longer  enjoyed  the  ad- 
miration and  intimacy  of  the  somewhat  im- 
becile young  man;  but  he  told  the  story  with 
an  unction  that  was  as  infectious  as  it  was 
delightful. 

The  story  of  a  joke  that  he  perpetrated  at 
the  expense  of  the  beautiful  and  gifted  Ade- 
laide Neilson  may  be  told  in  his  own  words: 
"  Miss  Neilson  happening  to  ask  me  for  a  lit- 
tle souvenir  on  her  departure  to  Florida,  I  in- 
quired what  she  would  like  best.  She  said  she 
would  leave  it  entirely  to  me;  any  trifle  would 
be  valued  as  a  parting  gift  from  such  an  old 
friend.  Whereupon  I  asked  her,  on  the  spur 
of  the  moment,  whether  she  would  like  a 
grizzly  bear  as  an  appropriate  playmate  and 
a  pleasant  ornament  to  a  lady's  chamber.  She 
replied,  in  the  same  spirit,  '  Yes,  send  him  up,' 
and  there  the  banter  ended.    However,   hap- 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  193 

pening  half  an  hour  afterwards  to  meet  Mr. 
Moss,  the  treasurer  of  Wallack's  theatre,  he 
mentioned  that  he  was  very  much  annoyed  by 
a  confounded  bear  that  somebody  had  sent  him 
from  California,  and  which  he  did  not  know 
what  on  earth  to  do  with.  '  Where  is  he?  '  said 
I.  'At  the  back  of  the  stage,'  said  he,  '  with 
half  a  dozen  men  sitting  on  his  cage  to  keep 
him  quiet,  one  of  whom  has  already  lost  all  his 
trousers  and  a  good  deal  of  his  flesh  through 
the  bars.'  'Good,'  said  I;  'I  will  relieve  you 
of  him.  I  know  just  where  to  place  him.' 
No  sooner  said  than  done,  and  in  half  an  hour 
'  Grizzly '  was  landed  at  the  Fifth  Avenue  Ho 
tel  by  four  porters,  with  a  stout  chain  about  as 
big  as  the  cable  of  a  man-of-war,  and  a  muzzle 
like  a  fire-grate,  in  the  middle  of  Miss  Neil 
sou's  drawing-room  and  a  numerous  company 
of  guests,  who  had  called  to  bid  the  fair  Juliet 
adieu.  Miss  Neilson  took  the  jest  in  good 
part,  kept  her  temper,  and  tried  to  keep  her 
bear;  but  that  was  an  effort  beyond  her,  and 
Bruin  was  finally  presented  to  the  Zoological 
Gardens  in  Central  Park,  thus  ending  the 
modern  adaptation,  '  with  a  difference,'  of  the 
old  story  of  Beauty  and  the  Beast." 

It  was  with  Miss  Neilson's  husband,  Mr. 
Philip  Lee,  for  a  victim  that  he  perpetrated 
that  which  was  probably  the  most  extensive 
(and  expensive)   of  all  his  extravagantly  con- 


194  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

ceived  and  carefully  carried  out  "  sells."  Un- 
fortunately for  Mr.  Lee,  he  expressed,  on  the 
occasion  of  his  first  visit  to  New  York,  and  in 
Sothern's  presence,  doubts  as  to  the  existence 
of  the  wild  and  delightful  American  Bohemian 
life  of  which  he  had  heard.  Sothern  told  him 
that  his  letters  of  introduction  were  all  to 
the  wrong  people,  but  that  if  he  liked  he  could 
introduce  him  to  the  right  set,  and  Mr.  Lee 
having  expressed  his  gratitude,  a  supper-party 
was  arranged.  Covers  were  laid  for  twelve, 
Sothern  presiding,  and  Mr.  Lee,  as  the  guest 
of  the  evening,  sitting  on  his  right  hand- 
Previously,  it  should  be  stated,  he  had  been 
introduced  by  his  host  and  Mr.  W.  J.  Florence 
(also  an  inveterate  joker,  and  of  course  in  the 
secret)  to  the  other  (supposed)  notabilities 
who  gathered  round  the  sumptuously  spread 
board.  For  a  time  all  went  well,  but  while 
the  soup  was  being  served  one  well-known  man 
was  seen  to  take  from  under  his  coat  a  bat- 
tle-axe, and  another  celebrity  drew  from  be- 
neath his  collar  a  dirk-knife  with  a  blade  over 
a  foot  long,  which  he  gravely  unclasped  and 
placed  beside  his  plate.  Then  another  took  a 
"  six-shooter "  from  his  pocket,  while  his 
neighbour  drew  a  scythe  and  a  policeman's 
staff  from  under  the  table,  and  laid  them  in 
the  middle  of  the  board. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,"  whispered  the  aston- 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  195 

ished  Mr.  Lee  into  Sothern's  ear,  "  what  does 
this  mean?" 

"  Keep  quiet,"  replied  Sothern ;  "  it  is  just 
what  I  most  feared.  These  gentlemen  have 
been  drinking,  and  they  have  quarrelled  about 
a  friend  of  theirs,  a  Mr.  Weymyss  Jobson, 
quite  an  eminent  scholar,  and  a  very  estimable 
gentleman;  but  I  hope,  for  our  sakes,  they 
will  not  attempt  to  settle  their  quarrel  here. 
It  is  dreadful;  but  I  hope,  dear  boy,  that  they 
will  go  away  quietly  and  have  no  row.  It  is 
a  fashion  they  have  here  to  settle  their  dis- 
putes at  a  table,  or  wherever  they  meet.  All 
we  can  do  now  is  to  await  events." 

"  But  there  will  be  murder  here ! "  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Lee.  "  Can  we  not  give  warning 
to  the  police?" 

"  Impossible,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Sothern, 
regretfully.  "  Were  you  even  to  be  suspected 
by  these  men  of  any  desire  to  leave  the  room, 
you  would  be  shot  like  a  dog,  and  no  satis- 
faction would  ever  be  given  your  relatives  in 
a  court  of  justice.     Such  is  the  country." 

"  It  is  an  infernal  country,  then ! "  muttered 
the  guest. 

For  a  few  moments  all  went  well,  when  sud- 
denly a  quarrel  broke  out  at  the  end  of  the 
table,  and  one  of  the  party,  springing  to  his 
feet,   fiercely  exclaimed: 

"  Whoever   says   that   the   '  History   of  the 


196  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

French  Revolution,'  written  by  my  friend 
David  Weymyss  Jobson  is  not  as  good  a  book 
in  every  respect  as  that  written  by  Tom 
Carlyle  on  the  same  subject,  is  a  liar  and  a 
thief;  and  if  there  is  any  fool  present  who  de- 
sires to  take  it  up,  I  am  his  man ! " 

All  the  guests  rose  suddenly,  and  every  man 
grasped  his  weapon;  shots  were  fired,  and  the 
room  was  filled  with  smoke  and  uproar;  sev- 
eral of  the  guests  closed  and  struggled  with 
each  other,  and  one  of  the  conspirators,  thrust- 
ing a  long  knife  into  the  amazed  victim's  now 
trembling  hand,  said : 

"  Defend  yourself !  This  is  butchery — sheer 
butchery ! " 

But  Sothern  sat  quietly  by,  and  gave  as  his 
advice : 

"  Keep  cool,  and  don't  get  shot." 

By  this  time  the  whole  hotel  was  roused, 
and  I  fancy  that  the  "  joke  "  went  further  than 
even  Sothern  in  his  wildest  mood  intended. 
His  guests  of  the  evening  were  a  troupe  of 
knock-about  negro  minstrels,  who  had  been 
instructed  how  to  act. 

Among  many  amusing  stories  that  that 
clever  comedian  Mr.  John  T.  Raymond  had 
to  tell  of  his  English  travelling  experiences 
with  Sothern  was  the  following:  They  were 
journeying  together  from  Glasgow  to  Bir- 
mingham, and,  having  agreed  to  appear  to  be 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  197 

strangers  to  each  other,  they  entered  a  first- 
class  nonsmoking  compartment,  in  which  sat 
two  typical  English  gentlemen.  "  Do  you  ob- 
ject to  smoking?"  asked  Raymond  of  them. 
"Certainly  not,"  they  politely  replied;  and 
the  same  question  was  put  to  Sothern,  who 
angrily  answered,  "  I  do,  sir — I  do  most  as- 
suredly. It  is  a  piece  of  impertinence  on 
your  part  to  ask  such  a  question."  "  I  beg 
your  pardon,"  replied  Eaymond,  modestly. 
"  I  am  only  an  American,  and  quite  unused 
to  the  customs  of  this  country."  "  That 's 
easy  enough  to  see,  sir,"  said  the  apparently 
indignant  Sothern.  ''  You  are  evidently 
either  an  American  or  a  fool.  We  don't  con- 
duct ourselves  in  that  way  in  England."  As 
if  terrified  half  out  of  his  life,  Raymond  sank 
back  into  a  corner  of  the  carriage,  and  the 
two  disgusted  Englishmen  expressed  them 
selves  freely  and  audibly  concerning  Sothern's 
apparently  offensive  and  overbearing  conduct. 
Gazing  at  them  calmly,  Sothern  quietly  took 
from  his  pocket  a  cigar,  lighted  it,  and  puffed 
away  in  the  most  easy  manner,  as  indifferent 
to  his  surroundings  as  if  he  had  been  alone. 
This  was  too  much  for  the  honest-minded  Eng- 
lishmen. They  looked  at  the  small  and  in- 
offensive Raymond — ^they  looked  at  the 
well-knit,  aggressive  Sothern,  and  they  "  went 
for  him."     At  first  they  talked  "  at  "  him,  then 


198  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

they  talked  to  him;  they  tried  to  make  him 
put  his  cigar  out,  explain,  apologise;  they  de- 
clared they  would  call  the  guard,  they  threat- 
ened all  kinds  of  things;  but  Sothern  sat 
imperturbable  and  silent  as  the  sphynx,  calmly 
smoking  his  cigar,  and  filling  the  compartment 
with  smoke.  In  the  midst  of  this  scene  the 
train  stopped  at  a  station;  and  then  Sothern, 
throwing  a  contemptuous  look  on  the  Eng- 
lishmen, and  taking  Raymond  by  the  arm, 
said,  "  Come,  John,  we  '11  change  carriages 
here.  We  '11  leave  these  ill-mannered  fellows 
to  themselves ! " 

Once,  taking  a  midnight  railway  journey 
after  a  late  and  exhausting  performance,  he 
made  efforts  to  secure  a  compartment  to  him- 
self; but  at  the  last  moment,  just  as  the  train 
was  starting,  another  traveller,  somewhat 
rudely  pushed  by  the  porter  in  attendance, 
opened  the  door,  and  claimed  and  asserted  his 
right  of  admission.  Sothern  said  nothing,  but 
when  the  train  had  started  he  opened  his 
travelling-bag,  and,  looking  malevolently  at 
his  fellow-passenger,  commenced  stropping  his 
razors.  After  the  first  stopping-station  had 
been  passed  he  had  that  compartment  to 
himself. 

The  following  story  has  been  told  (with 
variations)  by  Mr,  Toole,  but  it  is  so  charac- 
teristic of  Sothern's  peculiar  vein  of  humour 


Sothern  in  Hicrh  Spirits  199 

that  it  must  needs  be  repeated  here.  With 
Mrs.  John  Wood  he  entered  an  ironmonger's 
shop,  and,  advancing  to  the  counter,  said, 
'  Have  you  the  second  edition  of  Macanlay's 
'  History  of  England  '  ?  "  The  shop  assistant 
explained  the  nature  of  the  business,  and  sug- 
gested the  name  of  a  neighbouring  bookseller. 
''  Well,  it  don't  matter  whether  it  is  bound  in 
calf  or  not,"  said  Sothern.  "  But,  sir,  this  is 
not  a  bookseller's,"  was  the  reply.  "  It  does  n't 
matter  how  you  wrap  it  up,"  said  Sothern; 
"  a  piece  of  brown  paper  will  do — the  sort  of 
thing  that  you  would  select  for  your  own 
mother."  "  Sir,"  shouted  the  man,  "  we  don't 
keep  books;  this  is  an  ironmonger's  shop." 
"  Yes,"  said  Sothern,  '*  I  see  the  binding  dif- 
fers, but  as  long  as  the  proper  fly-leaf  is  in, 
I  'm  not  very  particular."  "  Sir,"  fairly 
shrieked  the  bewildered  man,  "  can't  you  see 
you  have  made  a  mistake  and  come  into  the 
wrong  shop?"  "Certainly,"  said  Sothern; 
''  I  'm  in  no  hurry,  and  I  '11  wait  while  you 
reach  it  down."  Believing  that  his  strange 
customer  was  either  deaf  or  mad,  the  man  went 
off  to  the  back  part  of  the  premises,  and  re- 
turned with  the  proprietor  of  the  establish- 
ment. "What  is  it  that  you  require,  sir?" 
asked  that  individual  of  Sothern,  in  a  bland 
yet  determined  voice.  "  I  want,"  was  the 
prompt  and   lucid  reply,   "  a   small,   ordinary 


200  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

file,  about  six  inches  in  length."  "  Certainly, 
sir,"  said  the  ironmonger,  producing  the  arti- 
cle, and  casting  a  look  of  supreme  disgust 
upon  his  unfortunate  assistant.  Mrs.  John 
Wood,  who,  when  they  entered  the  shop,  had 
no  idea  what  her  madcap  companion  was  go- 
ing to  do,  very  nearly  spoiled  the  joke  by  her 
ill-restrained  but  not  inexcusable  laughter. 

His  pranks  with  tradespeople  were,  indeed, 
innumerable.  Amongst  other  experiences  in 
this  connection,  I  have  been  with  him  when  he 
walked  into  a  post-office,  and  bewildered  the 
person  behind  the  counter  by  asking  for  "  some 
nice  fresh  stamps,  suitable  for  an  invalid." 
And  then,  after  he  had  inspected  sheets  of  all 
the  different  values,  declaring  that  this  was  a 
case  in  which  expense  need  not  be  considered, 
rejecting  them  all  because  he  "  really  feared 
they  were  not  quite  fresh  enough." 

At  a  little  social  club  in  Glasgow,  Sothern 
was  in  the  habit  of  sometimes  meeting  at  after- 
theatre  suppers  a  college  Professor  (in  his  own 
words  "a  singularly  clever  and  jolly  fellow"), 
who  had  a  way  of  abruptly  leaving  the  room 
without  taking  the  trouble  to  say  good-bye  to 
any  one  who  might  be  present.  On  one  occa- 
sion, when  both  the  actor  and  the  Professor 
were  present,  the  former  happened  to  sit  next 
to  an  outspoken  Major  (there  is  no  need  to 
mention  names),  who,  in  the  course  of  conver- 


MR.    E.    A.    SOTHERN    AS    LORD    DUNDREARY. 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  201 

sation,  remarked,  "  I  went  to-night  to  see  the 

world-famed   conjurer,   Professor  ,     What 

a  pity  it  is  that  he  should  appear  before  the 
public  in  such  a  shameful  condition !  "  "  Why, 
what  was  the  matter?"  asked  Sothern.  "He 
was  drunk,  sir,"  replied  the  Major — "  dis- 
gracefully drunk,"  Knowing  that  the  Major 
and  the  Professor  did  not  know  each  other, 
seeing  his  chance,  and  yielding  to  temptation. 
Sothern  quietly  nudged  his  neighbour,  at  the 
same  time  saying,  in  an  impressive  aside, 
,*'  Hush !  "  The  Major,  feeling  that  he  had 
committed  himself,  looked  up  quickly,  and 
Sothern  said,  "  My  dear  sir,  you  have  made  a 
mistake.  You  surely  don't  mean  that  he  was 
drunk?"  "No,  no,"  replied  the  Major  in  a 
disconcerted  sort  of  way,  "  not  exactly  drunk, 
but — but — but — well — confused,  you  under- 
stand. I  've  seen  a  good  many  of  the  English 
conjurers,  and  what  I  meant  to  imply  was,  that 
I  don't  consider  he  comes  up  to  their  average." 
At  this  juncture,  as  luck  would  have  it,  the 
Professor  rose  from  the  table  and  left  the  room, 
which  those  who  knew  him  recognised  as  his 
quiet  way  of  taking  his  departure  without 
breaking  up  a  social  party;  but  when  he  was 
fairly  gone,  Sothern  turned  to  the  Major  and 
said,  "  I  am  afraid  this  is  a  very  awkward  busi- 
ness !  I  wish  with  all  my  soul  that  you  had  n't 
said  it!"    "What  is  it?    What  did  I  say?" 


202  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

was  the  not  unnatural  reply.  "  Why,"  said 
Sothern,  "  did  n't  you  see  the  indignant  way 
in  which  that  man  got  up  and  left  the  room? 
That 's  the  son-in-law  of  the  conjurer — mar- 
ried his  daughter  only  two  days  ago,  and  of 
course  he  naturallj^  feels  indignant  at  the  very 
pointed  remark  that  he  heard  you  make." 
"  D — n  it,"  said  the  Major,  "  why  did  n't  you 
tell  me?  You  nudged  me,  and  you  confused 
me."  "  Nonsense,"  said  Sothern,  seriously ; 
"  I  looked  at  you,  and  winked  at  you,  feeling 
that  you  were  an  intelligent  fellow  and  would 
take  a  hint;  but,  as  the  thing  is  done,  my  ad- 
vice to  you  is  to  write  a  manly,  straightforward 
letter,  explaining  the  afifair  in  a  semi-apolo- 
getic way,  and  saying,  as  an  easy  means  of  get 
ting  out  of  it,  that,  having  had  a  remarkably 
jolly  supper,  you  were  perhaps  more  or  less 
under  the  influence  of  wine."  Falling  into  the 
trap,  the  regretful  Major  wrote  a  note  to  Soth- 
ern's  dictation,  and  Sothern  undertook  to  send 
it  to  the  Professor.  As  a  matter  of  course,  he 
did  7iot  send  it,  but  the  next  day  wrote  a  let- 
ter, and  had  it  copied  and  signed  in  the  Pro 
fessor's  name,  which  was  one  of  the  most 
grossly  insulting  in  its  character  that  one  could 
conceive.  It  read  something  like  this,  "  Sir, 
simply  because  you  happen  to  be  a  cavalry  of- 
ficer, and  I  a  quiet  university  Professor,  you 
think  you  can  with  impunity  insult  me  by  as- 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  203 

sailing  the  purity  of  my  honoured  father-in- 
law.  As  you  yourself  confess  in  your  note  that 
you  are  only  a  drunken  cad  " — and  so  forth, 
and  so  forth.  The  next  morning  the  Major 
called  on  Sothern  and  showed  him  this  letter. 
"  He  calls  me  a  drunken  cad ! "  he  said  excit- 
edly ;  "  and  I  mean  to  kick  him."  Sothern 
soothed  him  as  well  as  he  could,  and,  directly 
he  was  gone,  wrote  a  note  to  the  conjurer  in 
the  name  of  the  Major,  to  the  effect  that  he  had 
received  a  letter  from  his  son-in-law  saying 
that  he  would  horsewhip  him  at  the  first  op- 
portunity. That  brought  another  communica- 
tion which  still  further  complicated  matters; 
but  as  Sothern  wrote  all  the  missives  himself, 
he  held  the  trump  cards  in  his  own  hand. 
These  letters  went  backwards  and  forwards 
for  several  days,  and  finally  Sothern  sent  one 
from  the  Professor  challenging  the  Major,  at 
the  same  time  causing  a  number  of  telegrams 
to  be  transmitted  to  him  from  different  parts 
of  Scotland  from  men  with  whom  he  knew  he 
was  intimate,  expressive  of  their  astonishment 
that  a  gentleman  so  well  known  for  his  dis- 
tinguished bravery  should  have  been  guilty  of 
conduct  so  utterly  unbecoming  his  position. 
Now,  this  threw  the  unfortunate  Major  into  a 
state  of  great  excitement  and  perplexity.  He 
was  a  man  of  warm  temperament  and  high 
courage,   who   would    have   by    no    means   ob 


204  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

jected  to  "  meet  his  man,"  but  who  respected 
his  country's  laws,  and  who,  as  an  officer,  had 
his  own  reasons  for  strictly  regarding  them. 
Sothern  at  this  crisis  started  for  London,  leav- 
ing behind  him  a  batch  of  letters  and  telegrams 
of  the  most  slighting  and  insulting  description, 
which  were  delivered  to  the  Major  on  the  fol- 
lowing day.  Rendered  desperate  by  these,  he 
followed  Sothern  to  town,  sending  him  a  tele- 
gram in  advance,  begging  for  an  appointment, 
and  saying  that  he  should  act  under  his  advice. 
Sothern  at  once  arranged  to  have  the  Glasgow 
Professor  to  dine  with  him  on  the  very  day  on 
which  he  asked  the  Major  to  call,  and  when  the 
latter  walked  into  the  room  he  was  completely 
staggered  to  find  the  former  advance  and 
shake  him  cordially  by  the  hand.  Of  course 
the  gallant  Major  could  not  resist  what  he  now 
regarded  as  an  evidence  of  goodwill,  and  com- 
menced to  make  explanations,  to  which  the 
innocent  Professor  listened  in  astonishment, 
declaring  his  entire  ignorance  of  the  whole 
affair.  Not  having  an  idea  what  it  was  all 
about,  he  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
Major  was  drunk,  and  as  Sothern  kept  making 
signs  to  him,  he  treated  him  accordingly.  At 
last  the  situation  became  so  ludicrous  that 
Sothern  felt  bound  to  tell  the  whole  story,  and 
— well,  let  us  hope  that  he  was  forgiven. 
There  is  a  story  of  a  joke  that  he  played  in 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  205 

conjunction  with  another  actor  on  a  fastidious 
hotel  guest,  who  happened  to  occupy  a  room 
adjoining  theirs.  He  was  an  elderly  gentle- 
man, and  he  had  been  complaining  of  the  noise 
the  two  actors  made  when  they  came  home 
from  the  theatre,  and  so  it  was  determined 
that  he  should  have  a  "  good  time."  One 
night,  a  little  past  twelve  o'clock,  the  two 
actors  sat  down  at  the  table  in  their  room. 
On  it  they  placed  a  large  number  of  plates  and 
glasses,  and,  having  made  sure  that  their  irri- 
table neighbour  was  in  his  room,  they  proceeded 
to  produce  in  most  realistic  style  the  noise  and 
jollification  of  a  large  supper-party.  First, 
Sothern  would  get  up  and  make  a  speech,  at 
the  same  time  stamping  his  feet  and  clapping 
his  hands  to  personate  several  other  people, 
while  his  confederate  would  rattle  the  dishes, 
jingle  the  glasses,  and  shout  "Hear!  hear!" 
Occasionally,  to  heighten  the  illusion,  Sothern 
would  go  to  the  door  and  apparently  bid  one 
of  the  party  good  night,  tramp  noisily  down 
the  room,  and  inquire  of  a  score  of  imaginary 
persons  whether  they  had  all  they  wanted, 
and  what  wines  they  liked  best.  Tn  this  way 
some  dozens  of  supposititious  guests  departed 
from  the  room,  while  the  unhappy  old  man 
next  door,  thoroughly  tired  out  and  disgusted 
at  his  vain  efforts  to  go  to  sleep,  paced  the 
floor  in  despair.     Finally,  when,  at  about  sun- 


2o6  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

rise,  the  actors  began  to  get  tired,  they  bade 
their  last  guest  a  noisy  farewell  and  retired. 
In  the  morning  the  old  man  gave  up  his  room 
and  left  the  hotel  in  high  dudgeon.  There- 
after the  two  actors  came  in  as  late  and  made 
as  much  noise  as  they  liked. 

To  Mr.  Toole  I  am  indebted  for  the  anec- 
dote of  Florence  getting  home  late  one  night 
and  finding  upon  his  dining-room  table  a  very 
tender  note  in  a  lady's  handwriting.  The  sig- 
nature was  unknown  to  him,  and,  after  care- 
fully considering  the  epistle,  he  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  his  friend  Sothern  was  the 
writer  of  it.  Florence  immediately  wrote,  and 
despatched  by  a  messenger,  a  furious  letter  to 
Sothern,  from  whose  persecution,  as  he  re- 
garded it,  in  another  matter,  he  was  at  the 
moment  keenly  suffering.  "  Your  conduct," 
he  wrote,  "  is  neither  that  of  an  actor  nor  a 
gentleman."  In  the  morning  he  regretted  the 
hasty  letter  that  he  had  written,  and  which 
must  by  this  time  have  been  delivered  and  re- 
ceived. A  few  weeks  afterwards  he  met  Soth- 
ern in  the  street. 

"How  d'you  do,  Florence?"  said  Sothern. 
"  You  're  quite  a  stranger." 

"  That 's  how  I  have  been  feeling,"  said 
Florence.  "  Ever  since  I  wrote  that  letter  to 
you  I  concluded  it  would  put  an  end  to  our 
friendship." 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  207 

"  That  letter— what  letter  ?  Oh  yes,  I  re- 
member; something  about  neither  an  actor 
nor  a  gentleman?  But  there  was  no  name  at 
the  top  or  at  the  bottom ;  I  remember  now ;  so, 
guessing  it  was  intended  for  Boucicault,  I  re- 
directed it  and  sent  it  on !  " 

When  playing  in  America,  under  the  man- 
agement of  Mr.  Abbey,  the  two  had  a  wager 
together,  the  stakes  being  two  silk  hats.  Soth- 
ern was  the  winner,  and  Mr.  Abbey  wrote  an 
order  to  the  principal  hatter  in  New  York, 
asking  that  they  should  be  sent  to  him  at  the 
box-otlice  of  the  theatre.  Writing  this  order 
quickly,  he  had  left  a  blank  space  before  the 
figure  two,  and  when  his  back  was  turned, 
Sothern  quickly  inserted  in  front  of  it  a  six. 
The  order  was  duly  jjosted,  and  in  course  of 
time,  perplexed  as  the  hatter  must  have  been 
at  this  extraordinary  requirement  on  the  part 
of  Mr.  Abbey,  the  sixty-two  hats  were  deliv- 
ered, together  with  a  bill,  and  a  letter  ex- 
pressing his  satisfaction  at  being  favoured 
with  such  a  large  order.  Mr.  Abbey  happened 
to  be  out  when  the  hats  arrived,  and  his 
amazement  on  his  return  at  finding  the  box- 
office  literally  filled  with  the  sixty-two  hat- 
boxes  was  great.  The  man  who  delivered  the 
hats  also  brought  Mr.  Abbey's  order,  which 
was  written  in  pencil;  and  Sothern,  who  was 
on  the  lookout,  had  immediately  taken  the  let- 


2o8  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

ter  from  him  and  quietly  rubbed  out  his  own 
six,  so  that  the  astonished  and  indignant  Mr. 
Abbey,  when  he  asked  to  see  the  order,  read 
it,  just  as  he  had  written  it,  for  two  hats.  He 
showed  it  to  Sothern,  saying,  "  What  the  devil 

does  Mr.  mean  by  sending  me  sixty-two 

hats  when  my  order  was  for  two  ? " 

"  Poor  fellow ! "  said  Sothern,  shaking  his 
head ;  "  I  really  thought  he  would  leave  ofif,  but 
he 's  evidently  at  it  again." 

"At  what?"  asked  Mr.  Abbey. 

"  Oh,  it  only  shows  what  drink  will  do  if  a 
man  persists  in  it,"  was  the  reply.  "  You  had 
better  send  the  hats  back  with  some  sound  ad- 
vice concerning  his  too-well-known  habits,  and 
pay  the  bill." 

This  advice  was  followed,  and  an  angry 
correspondence  between  the  hatter  and  Mr. 
Abbey  had  reached  an  acute  stage  before  the 
perpetrator  of  the  joke,  having  thoroughly  en- 
joyed himself,  stepped  in  and  cleared  the  mat- 
ter up. 

Mr.  Florence  has  told  some  wonderful  stories 
of  the  "  sells  "  that  Sothern  prepared  for  his 
delectation,  generously  enough  premising  the 
narration  of  them  by  saying,  "  For  a  good 
square,  original,  practical  joke,  no  man  that 
I  ever  heard  of  can  touch  Ned  Sothern ;  his  in- 
ventive powers  are  marvellous." 

"  He  once,"  this  good-natured  and  even  ap- 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  209 

preciative  victim  went  on  to  say,  "  inserted  an 
advertisement  in  the  New  York  Herald,  the 
substance  of  which  was  that  I  wanted  ten 
dogs,  two  each  Newfoundland,  black-and-tan, 
spitz,  setters,  and  poodles,  and  that  dog  deal- 
ers might  apply  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing until  three  in  the  afternoon,  for  three  days, 
at  my  residence.  The  next  morning  by  eight 
o'clock  the  street  in  front  of  my  house  was 
crowded  with  men  and  dogs,  fighting  their  way 
to  my  door.  Aroused  by  the  awful  noise,  I 
got  out  of  my  bed,  went  to  the  window,  and  as 
I  drew  back  the  curtain  and  exposed  my  head 
and  shoulders,  every  fellow  in  that  motley 
crowd  held  up  his  dog  and  yelled  '  Here  he  is, 
Mr.  Florence ;  this  is  the  one  you  want ! '  I 
don't  know  what  else  they  said,  for  the  howl- 
ing and  barking  of  the  dogs  and  the  laughter 
of  the  crowd  drowned  all  other  sounds.  I  was 
at  a  loss  to  account  for  this  strange  sight; 
but  Mrs.  Florence,  coming  to  the  window,  and 
realising  the  situation,  said,  '  I  see  what  it  is ; 
it  cannot  be  anything  but  one  of  Ned  Soth- 
ern's  jokes.  Look — look!  There  he  is  him- 
self ! '  And  sure  enough  there  he  was,  look- 
ing at  a  beautiful  Skye-terrier  which  he  ulti- 
mately purchased.  He  turned  to  my  window, 
and,  with  that  characteristic  way  he  had  of 
adjusting  his  eye-glasses,  he  put  them  on  and 
looked  straight  at  me  as  if  he  had  never  seen 
14 


2IO  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

me,  and  then  innocently  asked  a  boy,  who  was 
holding  an  ugly  cur,  '  Who  lives  in  this  house? 
What  queer  person  is  that  who  is  shaking  his 
fist  at  us  ? '  '  Why,  Florence,  the  actor,  lives 
there,  and  he  advertised  for  dogs,  and  that 's 
what 's  the  matter,'  said  the  urchin.  '  Going 
into  the  dog  business,  I  suppose  ? '  said  Soth- 
ern, again  glancing  dreamilj^  at  the  windows 
and  walking  leisurely  away. 

"  At  another  time  he  sent  three  or  four  un- 
dertakers to  my  house  in  the  middle  of  the 
night.  The  last  trick  he  played  upon  me  was 
very  good.  I  had  invited  a  number  of  fellows 
to  dine  with  me,  and  we  were  expecting  a 
good  time.  When  we  were  pretty  well  through 
the  dessert,  one  of  the  gentlemen  went  outside 
into  the  hall,  and  in  a  few  minutes  returned, 
saying  that  there  was  an  old  man  at  the  door 
who  wished  to  see  Mr.  Florence,  and  that  he 
would  not  go  away  until  I  came  to  him. 
After  a  little  while  I  went  out,  and  found  the 
antediluvian  on  the  step  outside.  He  seemed 
to  be  very  infirm  and  quite  lame.  I  invited 
him  inside,  and  he  told  me  that  he  was  about 
to  return  to  the  old  country, — that  he  had  lost 
all  his  family  in  America,  and  was  going  home 
to  the  land  of  his  fathers  to  die.  He  had  a 
few  things  left  from  the  general  wreck  of 
his  household  which  he  wished  to  sell,  and 
thereupon  he  took  some  mantel  ornaments  and 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  211 

other  articles  of  virtu  from  his  pockets,  say- 
ing they  were  the  last  things  he  had  saved,  and 
if  I  could  spare  him  three  hundred  dollars  for 
them  he  could  buy  a  steerage  ticket  that  would 
carry  him  home.  I  saw  that  the  articles  were 
valuable,  told  him  that  I  would  keep  them, 
and  handed  him  three  hundred  dollars. 
Thinking  I  had  done  a  pretty  good  thing,  I 
returned  to  the  dining-room  and  gave  orders 
to  a  servant  to  let  the  beggar  out.  The  ser- 
vant returned,  saying  that  the  old  fellow  had 
already  gone;  and  so,  indeed,  he  had.  Some 
of  the  company  then  suggested  that  he  might 
have  been  a  fraud,  and  suggested  that  I  should 
'  just  look  round  and  see  if  he  had  not  taken  a 
few  things.'  It  then  bethought  me  that  the 
articles  he  produced  looked  like  some  of  my 
own.  I  rushed  into  the  parlour  to  find 
that  the  old  thief  had  taken  my  own  things. 
The  alarm  was  given  and  the  police  sent 
for. 

"  In  a  few  moments  two  oflficers  appeared 
and  began  a  search.  One  of  the  servants  then 
reported  that  he  had  seen  the  old  man  going 
upstairs.  The  officers  rushed  up,  and  after 
a  look  through  the  rooms  on  the  two  upper 
stories  discovered  him  looking  over  some  photo- 
graphs. The  officers,  of  course,  seized  him. 
He  resisted,  and  gave  it  to  them  pretty  roughly 
with  his  tongue. 


212  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

" '  Bring  the  old  ruffian  down,'  I  cried ; 
'  bring  him  into  the  dining-room.' 

"  Until  then  I  had  not  thoroughly  scanned 
the  aged  villain's  countenance.  Imagine  my 
amazement  when  I  looked  into  that  eye  which 
no  power  on  earth  could  disguise  or  change, 
to  find  that  the  old  man  I  had  hold  of  was 
Sothern  himself!  It  was  a  dead  sell  on  us 
all." 

Sothern,  who  had  actually  been  one  of  Mr. 
Florence's  guests  at  dinner,  had,  it  appeared, 
come  provided  with  a  wig,  beard,  slippers,  a 
long  coat,  and  a  villainous  old  hat,  and,  man- 
aging to  slip  out  of  the  room,  had,  in  a  few 
moments,  transformed  himself  into  the  dis- 
reputable old  beggar-man. 

Mr.  Stephen  Fiske  has  also  related  some 
curious  experiences  that  befell  him  when  in 
the  company  of  this  incorrigible  practical 
joker.  He  was  walking  with  Sothern  down 
Regent  Street  one  day,  when  he  said,  "  You  go 
ahead  a  little,  Fiske,  and  I  '11  go  back,  but  we 
will  both  take  the  Atlas  omnibus."  "  I " 
(says  Mr.  Fiske)  "  followed  his  instructions, 
and,  entering  the  omnibus,  found  Sothern  sit- 
ting in  the  diagonally  opposite  corner.  I  nat 
urally  looked  at  him  with  some  curiosity  to 
know  why  he  had  asked  me  to  go  on  ahead. 
Perceiving  this,  he  assumed  a  very  fierce  and 
belligerent    expression,    and    exclaimed,    '  Are 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  213 

you  staring  at  me,  sir?'  The  omnibus  was 
filled  with  several  elderly  ladies,  two  quiet 
gentlemen  who  looked  like  clergymen,  and  a 
farmer  from  the  country.  I  took  the  cue  at 
once,  and  replied,  '  No ;  if  I  wanted  to  stare  at 
anybody,  I  would  stare  at  a  better-looking 
man  than  yourself.'  At  this  Sothern's  indig- 
nation apparently  became  uncontrollable,  and 
it  required  all  the  force  of  the  clergymen, 
seconded  by  the  farmer,  to  keep  him  in  his 
seat,  and  prevent  him  from  throwing  himself 
upon  me.  Finally,  he  insisted  upon  stopping 
the  '  bus,'  and  invited  me  to  step  outside,  and 
either  apologise  then  and  there  for  the  insult 
or  fight  him  on  the  spot.  I  pretended  to  pre- 
fer to  do  the  latter,  but  said  I  would  remain 
in  the  omnibus;  whereupon  Sothern  took  off 
his  overcoat,  and  handed  it  to  the  nearest  old 
lady  to  hold  for  him  while  he  chastised  me  for 
my  impertinence.  In  the  course  of  the  de- 
sultory remarks  in  which  we  then  indulged, 
he  said  that  he  would  allow  nobody  except  his 
friend  John  Robinson,  of  Philadelphia,  to 
speak  to  him  in  that  way  and  live;  whereupon 
I  immediately  informed  him  that  my  name 
was  Robinson,  Christian  name  John,  and  that 
I  had  just  arrived  from  America,  but  that  I 
had  n't  the  pleasure  of  his  acquaintance,  nor 
did  I  particularly  desire  it.  In  an  instant 
Sothern's    manner    completely    changed,    and. 


214  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

climbing  over  the  old  ladies,  the  clergymen, 
and  the  farmer,  to  my  corner  of  the  omnibus, 
he  endeavoured  to  embrace  me  like  a  long- 
lost  friend.  He  declared  that  he  had  never 
been  more  delighted  in  his  life,  stopped  the 
omnibus,  and  proposed  that  we  should  get  out 
together,  which  we  thereupon  proceeded  to  do. 
The  comedy  we  had  enacted,  and  the  astonish- 
ment depicted  on  the  faces  of  the  inmates  of 
the  vehicle,  exceeded  anything  I  ever  saw  on 
the  stage,  and  afforded  food  for  laughter  for 
many  days." 

Mr.  Fiske  has  also  recorded  another  episode, 
which  he  described  as  "  A  Spiritual  Joke." 
''  I  remember,"  he  said,  "  a  curious  experiment 
which  Sothern  made  in  New  York,  while  a 
well-known  actress  was  playing  at  the  Winter 
Garden.  Sothern  was  engaged  in  a  discussion 
on  spiritualism  with  a  gentleman  in  the  corri- 
dor or  lobby,  and  said,  '  Now  let  me  give  you 
an  instance  of  the  power  of  a  medium.     You 

observe  that  Miss is  on  the  stage,  and  of 

course  she  can't  hear  what  I  say  at  this  in- 
stant. But  if  you  will  watch  her  while  I 
count  "  one,  two,  three/'  you  will  notice  that 
she  will  tremble,  turn  pale,  and  lean  against 
the  actor  with  whom  she  is  playing.'  As 
Sothern  did  so,  he  pulled  out  his  handkerchief, 
rubbed  it  against  the  window  looking  into  the 
audience,  and  precisely  what  he  had  predicted 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  215 

occurred.  It  was  so  naturally  done  that  even 
I  was  deceived  until  after  the  performance, 
when  the  actress,  sending  for  me,  said :  '  Mr. 
Fiske,  what  was  Mr.  Sothern's  object  in  ask- 
ing me,  as  a  special  favour,  to  lean  against 

H when    he    rubbed    his    handkerchief 

against  the  glass?'  I  did  not  myself  find  or.t 
until,  during  a  subsequent  conversation  at 
supper,  he  explained  the  joke.  It  illustrates 
one  of  his  methods.  He  had  told  her  what 
to  do." 

Mr.  Fiske's  omnibus  story  reminds  me  how 
fond  Sothern  at  all  times  was  of  making  pub- 
lic conveyances  the  targets  for  his  wayward 
humour.  On  one  occasion,  I  remember,  he 
called  a  hansom  that  was  ''  crawling "  along 
the  Strand,  got  into  it,  and  began  earnestly  to 
read  a  newspaper.  "Where  to,  sir?"  asked 
the  driver,  having  closed  the  doors,  and  touch- 
ing his  hat;  but  this  question  had  to  be  re- 
peated some  half-dozen  times  before  Sothern, 
looking  up  dreamily  from  his  paper,  took  any 
notice  of  it. 

''  WJicre  to?  "  he  then  said  somewhat  angrily. 
''Why,  aren't  we  there  yet?  Where  have  you 
been   driving  me  to,   then  ? " 

Cabman.     We  have  n't  been  driving  at  all 


Sothern    {interrupting    him).     We    haven't    been 
driving!     Of  course  we  haven't  been  driving!     Do 


2i6  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

you  think  that  when  I  engaged  this  cab  I  meant  to 
come  and  share  your  seat,  and  hold  one  of  the  reins? 

Cabman  (sulkily).  Well,  then,  I  haven't  been 
driving — there. 

Sothern.  That 's  just  where  you  are  in  the 
wrong.  You  ought  to  have  been  driving  there. 
What  else  did  I  take  this  cab  for? 

Cabman.  But  you  didn't  tell  me  where  you 
wanted  to  go  to. 

Sothern.  Of  course  I  didn't.  If  I  had  known 
where  I  wanted  to  go  to,  naturally  I  should  have 
walked  there.     I  leave  all  that  to  you. 

Cabman.  Come,  now,  governor,  tell  me  where  I 
am  to  drive  to. 

Sothern  {looking  at  him,  earnestly).  Do  you 
mean  to  tell  me  that  you  really  don't  know? 

Cabman  (losing  his  temper).  How  should  I 
know? 

Sothern.  Why,  I  was  always  given  to  understand 
that  you  fellows  knew  London  thoroughly  well. 

Cabman  (on  his  dignify).  So  I  do  know  London 
well.     No  man  better. 

Sothern.  I  should  have  thought,  then,  that  Lei- 
cester Square 

Cabman.  Leicester  Square!  You  never  said  that 
before. 

Sothern.  Of  course  I  didn't.  Well,  now,  per- 
haps, you  know  where  to  go. 

(Cabman  indignantly  mounts  his  box  and  drives 
off.  Sothern  again  immerses  himself  in  his  news- 
paper.    Leicester  Square  is,  of  course,  soon  reached.) 

Cabman  (with  his  mouth  at  the  roof-trap) . 
Which  number,  sir? 

Sothern.     Don't  bother  me;  I'm  busy. 

Cabman.  Well,  but  I  only  wanted  to  know  which 
number. 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  217 

Sothern.  That  does  n't  sound  a  great  deal  either, 
does  it?  Get  down,  my  good  fellow,  and  we  '11  talk 
about  it.  We  shall  never  come  to  an  understanding 
while  you  're  up  there,  and  I  'm  down  here. 

Cabman   {at  the  door).     Which  number,  sir? 

Sothern.  Upon  my  soul,  /  don't  know.  What 
place  is  this? 

Cabman   {surlily).     Leicester  Square. 

Sothern.     Indeed?     Why   did   we   come  here? 

Cabman.  Because  you  said  you  wanted  to  come 
here. 

Sothern.  No,  no;  pardon  me.  I  remember  now. 
You  suggested  Leicester  Square,  and  I,  thinking 
you  seemed  to  be  a  man  of  taste,  jumped  at  it.  I 
was  right.  It 's  a  pretty  place.  I  like  it.  I  '11  take 
you  by  the  hour,  the  day,  the  week,  the  month,  any- 
thing you  like;  only  drive  quietly  round  and  round 
it,  so  that  I  can  see  it  thoroughly  and  at  my 
leisure. 

{The  cabman,  thinking  that  he  is  dealing  with  a 
lunatic,  and  possibly  a  dangerous  one,  remounts  his 
box,  and  drives  "  round  and  round "  the  square. 
Sothern  again  buries  himself  in  his  newspaper. 
After  a  lapse  of  some  three-quarters  of  an  hour  the 
cabman  once  more  stops,  gets  down,  and  stands  at 
the  door,  which  he  has  opened.) 

Cabman.  Look  here,  governor,  for  mercy's  sake, 
get  out,  and,  if  you  like,  blow  the  fare !  We  've  been 
round  this  'ere  square  the  dickens  only  knows  how 
many  times,  and,  however  you  may  feel,  me  and  the 
old  'orse  is  both  blind  dizzy! 

Sothern  is  himself  responsible  for  the  fol- 
lowing anecdote,  and  it  may  as  well  be  told  in 
his  own  words.  "  Not  long  ago,  Mr.  Toole  and 
myself    were    breakfasting    with    a    party    of 


2i8  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

friends  at  an  inn  in  Greenwich.  No  sooner 
had  the  waiter  left  the  room  for  an  instant 
than  I  proposed  that  we  should  remove  the 
plate  from  the  cloth,  and  get  under  the  table. 
This  we  did  without  loss  of  time,  taking  every 
article  of  silver-ware  from  the  table,  down  to 
the  spoons,  and  throwing  open  the  window. 
After  a  while  the  door  was  opened  and  the 
waiter  reappeared. 

" '  Hallo ! '  he  cried,  seeing  the  company 
gone,  also  the  silver,  and  the  window  wide 
open,  'here's  a  rum  go!  I'm  blest  if  they 
aren't  run  away  with  the  silver!  Here,  Dick 
(to  a  waiter  who  was  passing),  the  gentlemen 
'as  run  away  with  the  silver!  Help  me  find 
the  guv'nor ! '  With  that  he  made  a  hasty 
exit,  whereupon  the  party  resumed  their  places, 
after  shutting  down  the  window  and  replac- 
ing the  dishes,  the  knives,  the  forks,  and  the 
spoons.  When  the  '  guv'nor  '  appeared,  breath- 
less and  cursing,  not  loud,  but  deep,  he  found 
a  party  of  gentlemen  in  the  full  possession  of 
his  silver -ware,  quietly  discussing  the  fish 
His  ejaculation  of  rage  changed  to  astonish- 
ment and  relief. 

"'Eh,  what?'  said  he,  'everything  secure? 
Why,  James,  you  confounded  rascal,  what  do 
you  mean  ? ' 

"  '  So  help  me,  guv'nor '  commenced  the 

bewildered  waiter. 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  219 

"  '  You  're  drunk,  you  idiot ! '  exclaimed  the 
irate  landlord,  and  then,  bowing  to  the  com- 
pany, '  Gentlemen,  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  will 
withdraw.' " 

Sothern  also  told  the  following  story :  "  One 
morning  at  breakfast  in  the  public-room  of 
the  Continental  Hotel,  Philadelphia,  I  observed 
an  old  gentleman  who  was  obviously  very 
much  annoyed  at  the  delay  of  the  waiter  in 
bringing  his  breakfast.  He  was  continually 
looking  at  his  watch  and  apparently  muttering 
oaths  of  abdominal  origin.  For  some  time  I 
paid  little  attention  to  him,  but  at  last,  be- 
coming either  interested  or  annoyed  with  him, 
I  asked  the  head-waiter  who  he  was.  He  told 
me  he  was  General  So-and-so,  an  irascible  old 
bachelor,  and  one  of  the  regular  boarders  of 
the  house.  While  waiting  for  my  own  break- 
fast I  had  emptied  my  pockets  of  the  letters 
which  I  had  to  acknowledge  that  morning, 
and  among  them  found  what  we  call  a  '  prop- 
erty letter,'  that  had  accidentally  found  its 
way  among  my  old  papers.  A  property  letter, 
you  know,  means  a  letter  used  on  the  stage, 
and  this  one  read  as  follows : 

" '  Young  inan,  I  know  thy  secret — thou  lov- 
est  above  thy  station:  if  thou  hast  wit,  cour- 
age, and  discretion,  I  can  secure  to  thee  the 
realisation  of  thy  most  sanguine  hopes,  etc., 
etc: 


220  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

"  It  is  the  letter  which  Claude  Melnotte 
reads  in  '  The  Lady  of  Lyons.'  It  struck  me 
on  the  instant  that  I  would  enclose  it  in  an 
envelope,  send  it  to  the  old  gentleman,  and 
watch  the  effect;  so,  calling  one  of  the  waiters 
— a  coloured  man — I  told  him  to  go  outside  in 
the  hall,  remain  for  five  minutes,  and  then  re- 
turn and  deliver  the  letter,  saying  that  the 
writer  would  call  for  a  reply  during  the  day. 
I  also  instructed  the  waiter,  after  giving  this 
reply,  to  retire  quickly,  and  not  be  seen  again 
in  the  hotel  until  the  next  day,  and  that  I 
would  make  it  all  right  with  his  employer. 

"  Agreeably  to  my  orders,  in  a  few  minutes 
the  servant  walked  up  to  the  General  and  put 
the  letter  in  his  hands.  The  old  gentleman  ad- 
justed his  spectacles,  tore  open  the  envelope, 
and  in  an  amazed  tone  commenced  to  read 
half  aloud,  '  Young  man,  I  know  thy  secret,' 
and  so  on.  He  read  it  over  two  or  three  times, 
and  I  never  saw  anybody  more  bewildered. 
At  last  he  called  for  the  head-waiter  and  de- 
manded to  see  the  servant  who  had  delivered 
the  letter;  of  course  he  was  not  to  be  found. 
The  longer  he  pondered,  the  more  he  seemed 
inclined  to  fly  into  a  passion,  and  when  his 
breakfast  came  the  storm  burst.  '  D — n  the 
breakfast ! '  he  exclaimed,  almost  kicking  over 
the  table.  *  I  want  to  see  the  lunatic  who  calls 
me  a  "  young  man,"  and  says  he  knows  my 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  221 

secret,  and  can  secure  the  realisation  of  my 
fondest  hopes.  I  have  n't  got  any  secret,  and 
my  fondest  hope  is  to  kick  the  idiot  who  sent 
me  this  insane  note!' 

"  During  this  time  two  or  three  ladies  had 
joined  me  at  the  breakfast-table,  and,  notic- 
ing the  extraordinary  excitement  of  the  Gen- 
eral, asked  me  if  I  knew  who  he  was.  I  told 
them  to  keep  very  quiet,  and  not  to  attract  his 
attention ;  that  he  was  a  fratricide,  and  an  es- 
caped lunatic,  whose  keepers  were  outside  be- 
hind the  doors  waiting  for  him,  and  that  the 
letter  was  only  a  decoy  to  enable  them  to 
secure  him  without  any  unnecessary  violence. 
This  thoroughly  alarmed  them,  and  they  hur- 
riedly left  the  table,  retreating  through  the 
door  at  the  other  end  of  the  room. 

"  At  this  moment  the  second  head-waiter, 
who  had  noticed  the  agitation  of  the  ladies, 
walked  up  to  me,  and  asked  if  they  were  not 
satisfied  with  the  breakfast. 

"  '  Oh  yes,'  I  replied,  '  I  presume  so ;  but  the 
youngest  lady  is  a  dangerous  maniac  at  times, 
and  the  instant  she  saw  her  father.  General 
So-and-so,  disturbed  in  his  mind  by  the  let- 
ter she  had  written,  I  whispered  to  her  friend 
to  take  her  out  of  the  room.' 

"  In  a  few  moments,  having  finished  my 
breakfast,  I  took  my  own  departure.  On 
reaching  the  office  of  the  hotel,  I  inquired  of 


222  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

one  of  the  principal  clerks  whether  his  head- 
waiter  was  quite  sound  in  his  mind.  He  asked 
me  my  reason  for  making  the  inquiry.  I  said 
that  I  did  n't  want  to  get  my  name  mixed  up 
in  the  matter,  but  it  struck  me  that  the  one 
weak  point  of  his  intellect  was  his  apparently 
intense  dislike  to  the  General,  and  I  observed, 
*  If  I  were  you  I  should  just  test  it  by  going 
up  to  him  suddenly,  and  saying :  "  Don't  you 
think  you  will  get  yourself  into  trouble  about 
that  letter  of  the  General's? '  " 

"  Taking  my  advice,  the  clerk  walked  up  to 
the  head-waiter  and  abruptly  put  this  ques- 
tion to  him.  Of  course  the  waiter  got  very 
much  confused,  and  stammered  in  endeavour- 
ing to  make  an  explanation ;  whereupon  I,  who 
was  behind  him,  intimated  by  signs  to  the  clerk 
that  he  had  better  get  out  of  the  way,  as  the 
fellow  had  a  knife  about  him  and  might  be- 
come very  violent. 

"  In  the  meantime  I  saw  the  General  ap- 
proach the  office  to  make  inquiries,  and  in  a 
minute  or  two  there  was  a  tremendous  hum 
of  conversation.  Half  a  dozen  men  were  talk- 
ing loudly  and  excitedly  together,  among 
whom  were  the  clerk  and  the  two  head-waiters. 
I  hastily  paid  my  bill,  seized  my  travelling- 
bag,  jumped  into  a  conveyance  at  the  door, 
and  was  driven  away.  I  never  learned  what  was 
the  result,  because  I  never  dared  to  inquire." 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  223 

I  suppose  if  anything  could  be  called  fair 
game  for  these  wild  exploits,  it  would  be  the 
self-sufficient  and  absolutely  irrepressible 
amateur  actor  who  believes  himself  to  be  an 
Irving,  Kendal,  and  Toole  rolled  into  one. 
That  Sothern  thought  him  so  will  be  seen  by 
the  following  anecdote. 

While  taking  a  short  holiday  at  a  seaside 
town  he  was  introduced  to  a  gentleman  who, 
having  played  a  few  parts  in  the  Theatre 
Royal  Back  Drawing-Room,  believed  himself 
to  be  a  histrionic  genius.  With  time  on  his 
hands,  this  w^as  just  the  sort  of  man  that  Soth- 
ern wanted,  and  at  his  expense  he  at  once  be- 
gan to  amuse  himself. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  he  said  to  him,  after  an 
acquaintance  of  about  twenty-four  hours, 
"  there  is  no  need  to  tell  me  that  you  are  a 
born  actor.  I  can  see  it  in  your  eyes  and 
bearing,  hear  it  in  your  voice,  read  it  in  your 
every  action.  Why,  in  the  name  of  goodness, 
do  you  waste  your  time  here,  when  in  Lon- 
don you  would  find  fame  and  fortune?  It  is 
really  the  saddest  case  of  '  Born  to  Blush  Un- 
seen '  that  I  have  ever  known.  Why  on  earth 
don't  you  give  yourself  a  chance?" 

"Well,  yes;  but  how?"  was  the  answer. 

"  Why,  confound  it  all,  look  here,"  replied 
Sothern.  "Though  it's  dead  against  my  own 
interest  to  say  it,  if  I  were  you  I  would  en- 


224  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

gage  the  theatre  in  this  place,  send  invitations 
to  all  the  London  managers,  and  appear  as 
Othello.  After  that  you  would  simply  have 
to  name  your  own   terms." 

Only  too  readily  the  poor  conceited  amateur 
actor  fell  into  the  trap.  The  theatre  was 
taken,  a  company  (of  some  sort)  recruited, 
and,  under  the  supervision  of  Sothern,  Shake- 
speare's tragedy  was  (in  a  fashion)  rehearsed. 
On  the  evening  of  the  production  Sothern 
called  his  victim  on  one  side  and  said  to  him: 

"  You  are  admirable ;  I  don't  know  when  I 
watched  rehearsals  with  greater  interest;  I 
don't  know  when  I  have  learnt  more  lessons 
than  I  have  while  noting  your  marvellous  con- 
ception of  Othello.  But  you  have  one  fault, 
which  I,  as  an  old  actor,  may  be  pardoned  for 
pointing  out  to  you.  You  don't  speak  up 
enough." 

"  Don't  speak  up  enough ! "  said  the  ama- 
teur, who  had  been  exercising  what  he  called 
"  his  organ  "  in  a  manner  that  was,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  remarkable.  "  Why,  all  the  others 
declare  that  I  am  much  too  loud!" 

"  Precisely,"  was  the  reply ;  "  and  that  only 
just  proves  what  I  am  saying.  Can't  you  see, 
my  good  fellow,  that  they  recognise  in  you  a 
genius,  and  that  they  would  like  you  to  make 
a  failure?  Now,  I,  who  have  your  real  inter- 
est at  heart,  and  mean  you  to  succeed,  tell  you 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  225 

the  truth.  To-night  I  will  sit  in  a  box,  close 
to  the  stage.  Keep  your  eye  on  me,  and  when 
I  show  my  handkerchief  raise  your  voice  to 
its  very  utmost  capacity." 

The  ambitious  one  thanked  his  kind  patron, 
and  promised  to  attend  to  his  instructions. 
It  is  easy  to  see  what  followed.  Led  on  by  the 
ever-displayed  handkerchief,  Othello  roared 
like  a  very  bull,  to  the  dismay  of  those  who 
were  playing  with  him,  and  to  the  derision  of 
the  audience.  In  the  course  of  the  evening  he 
sent  for  Sothern  and  said: 

"  I  'm  sure  I  must  be  loud  enough ;  I  'm 
shouting  myself  faint;  the  audience  laughs  at 
me.  Why  do  you  continue  to  show  that  con- 
founded handkerchief?" 

Sothern  looked  at  him  with  a  sad  smile,  and 
said: 

"  My  dear  boy,  this  is  where  the  old  actor 
comes  in.  You  think  you  are  shouting,  but, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  you  are  inaudible.  Ex- 
perience alone  can  teach  the  true  management 
of  the  voice.  The  laughs  of  which  you  com- 
plain mean  that  you  cannot  be  heard.  The 
London  critics  who,  at  my  request,  have  spe- 
cially come  down  to  see  you,  have  just  been  say- 
ing to  me,  '  You  're  right  about  the  man ;  he  's 
got  a  magnificent  stage  presence;  his  poses 
are  unequalled ;  he  's  grasped  the  part  better 
than  any  one  since  Kemble  died;  but,  damme, 

IS 


226  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

why  don't  he  speak  up?'     If  you  don't  do  so 
in  the  next  act  I  'm  afraid  you  're  settled." 

After  the  next  act  the  poor  mistaken  man, 
who,  of  course,  had  acted  execrably,  was  set- 
tled. With  protruded  eyeballs,  distended 
veins,  and  perspiration  playing  havoc  with  his 
blackened  face,  he  bellowed  (to  the  tune  of  the 
fluttering  handkerchief)  until  voice  and 
strength  forsook  him,  and,  in  whispered  tones, 
he  told  his  mentor  that  "  he  could  not  go  on 
any  longer."  "  I  was  afraid  of  it,"  said  Soth- 
ern ;  "  what  a  pity !  You  have  all  the  attri 
butes  of  a  great  actor  except  voice  power. 
Well,  it  was  worth  trying.  If  you  could  have 
made  yourself  heard  you  would  have  snuffed 
us  all  out.  As  it  is,  there  is  nothing  to  do  but 
grin  and  bear  it." 

Writing  of  the  shouting  Othello  reminds  me 
of  an  odd  and  harmless  trick  that  Sothern  was 
fond  of  trying  at  a  dinner-party.  Commenc- 
ing with  a  confederate  across  the  table,  he 
would  converse  in  loud  and  yet  louder  tones, 
and  this,  being  continued,  became  so  infectious 
that  at  last,  to  his  infinite  delight,  all  present 
would  be  shouting,  the  one  to  the  other,  at  the 
very  pitch  of  their  voices. 

Mr.  Toole,  ever  a  great  friend  of  Sothern's, 
and  a  participator  in  many  of  his  jokes,  once 
agreed  with  another  friend  to  meet  him  at 
one  of  those  old  inns  in  the  city  where  steaks 


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MASON  OPERA  HOUSE     A 


:.  TYATT.  leise*  and  Managar 


E.   H.  SOTHERN 

RICHARD  LOVELACE 

By  LAURENCE  IRVING. 


•    ""^li?^ 


LORD  DUNDREARY 

In  ■OUR  AMERICAN  COUSIN." 


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NEXT  ATTRACTION 

fiNNiNc  Monday,  January   1 1 

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HENRY  B.  HARRIS 


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226 


Edward  Askew  Sothern 


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LAURA  KEENE'S 

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TT  la  «     «»  m-  «5  la  «s^«  *  .JL.W 


WASHINGTON'S  BIRTH-DAT 

LiPB  ""'op  """W  ASHING^^^^ 

oBUr  Bpui«l«d   Binaer,"    «  Col.mblii,  tb.  Ocm  ol  '»"  """7 
xWublagtoD'anarcb,"  •' Tattke*  Doodle,"  ^d^iag  -.u,  >  g~a  "" 

MR.    SOTHERN 

Will  Uka  pUce  •»  rtiU  Th(i«tre,  .--- 

Oir    BATUZLDAT     EVENINO,     MABOH    Stb,    1S59, 

OUR  AMERICAN  COUSIN 


ADMISSlUn  : 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  227 

are  cooked  to  the  point  of  perfection.  Soth- 
ern happening  to  be  first  at  the  meeting-place 
— a  quiet  coffee-room  in  an  old-fashioned  hos- 
telry— was  attracted  by  the  appearance  of  the 
only  diner,  a  quaint  and  sedate-looking  elderly 
gentleman,  who,  with  the  air  of  one  well  ac- 
customed to  the  place,  was  quietly  enjoying  one 
of  the  famous  steaks  to  the  accompaniment  of 
a  pint  of  choice  port. 

Immediately  an  idea  came  into  his  head, 
and,  acting  upon  it,  in  his  usually  impulsive 
manner,  he  walked  quickly  up  to  the  old  gen- 
tleman and  gave  him  such  a  hearty  slap  on 
the  back  that,  half  falling  across  the  table,  he 
sent  the  succulent  steak  flying  from  its  dish, 
and  upset  the  wine-bottle.  "  How  are  you, 
old  boy?"  said  Sothern,  extending  his  hand, 
and  in  apparent  delight.  "I  haven't  seen  you 
for  years.  This  is  unexpected!  How  are 
they  all  at  home?"  "Sir,"  ejaculated  the  in- 
dignant and  choking  old  gentleman,  "  what 
do  you  mean  by  taking  this  liberty?  Who 
are  you?  I — "  Instantly  Sothern's  mobile 
face  underwent  a  change.  "  My  dear  sir,"  he 
said,  in  the  most  apologetic  of  tones,  "  I  fear 
I  have  made  a  most  unpardonable  mistake. 
I  thought  you  were  one  of  the  most  intimate 
of  my  friends,  and  now  T  find  that  I  have  ac- 
costed, nay,  assaulted  a  stranger.  I  really, 
my  dear  sir,  don't  know  what  to  say  to  you." 


2  28  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Sothern's  earnest  manner  quickly  and  com- 
pletely mollified  the  old  gentleman,  who,  re- 
jecting an  offer  that  the  spilt  wine  should  be 
replaced,  cheerfully  ordered  a  second  pint 
bottle,  said  it  was  "  all  a  mistake,"  and  re- 
sumed his  rudely  interrupted  meal.  Sothern 
left  the  coffee-room,  strolled  to  the  hotel  door, 
and  there  encountered  the  man  who  was  to 
meet  Toole  and  himself.  "  I  am  afraid  that 
I  am  late,"  said  the  new-comer.  "  A  little," 
said  Sothern ;  "  but  it  does  n't  matter.  Toole 
has  n't  come  yet.  By  the  way,  should  you  like 
to  take  a  part  in  one  of  those  little  jokes  of 
mine  about  which  people  talk  so  much?" 
This  was  generally  an  irresistible  temptation, 
and  his  friend,  falling  into  the  trap,  said,  "  By 
all  means."  "  To  begin  with,  then,"  said 
^^othern,  "  go  into  the  coffee-room.  There  you 
will  find  an  old  gentleman  busy  with  his  din- 
ner. Bang  him  across  the  back  as  if  you  had 
known  him  for  years,  calling  out,  '  Well,  old 
cock,  how  are  you  ? '  and  then  make  profuse 
apologies,  saying  that  you  have  made  a  mis- 
take." Not  seeing  much  difficulty  or  danger 
in  this,  the  friend  departed  on  his  errand,  and 
by-and-by  returned.  "  Well,"  asked  Sothern, 
with  the  familiar  twinkle  in  his  marvellous 
eye,  "  how  did  he  take  it?  "  "  Not  at  all  well," 
was  the  reply.  "  He 's  a  surly  old  fellow,  and 
made  a  tremendous  fuss.    I  'd  no  idea  a  man 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  229 

could  so  lose  his  temper  over  what  might,  after 
all,  have  been  an  excusable  mistake.  How- 
ever, he  's  all  right  now.  I  broke  his  half-bot- 
tle of  wine,  but  he  let  me  pay  for  another,  and 
he 's  now  at  work  again."  At  this  moment 
Toole  arrived,  full  of  apologies  at  keeping  the 
others  waiting.  ^'  It  does  n't  matter,"  said 
Sothern,  "  especially  if  you  will  win  me  a  bet 
that  I  have  just  made."  "What  is  it?"  asked 
Toole.  "  Why,"  said  Rothern,  "  in  the  coflfee- 
room  there  is  a  crusty-looking  old  boy  of  the 
John  Bull  pattern,  evidently  an  habitue  of 
the  place,  pecking  a  steak,  and  sipping  a  pint 
of  port,  and  I  've  just  told  our  friend  here  that 
when  you  came  I  'd  get  you  to  go  and  give  him 
a  rouser  in  the  back,  send  him  sprawling  on 
to  the  table  on  top  of  his  steak  and  his  wine, 
just  as  if  he  was  your  dearest  friend.  This 
man  bets  me  a  fiver  that  you  dare  n't  do  it." 
"  What  nonsense !  "  said  Toole.  "  There  's 
nothing  in  that.  I  '11  do  it  at  once,  because,  of 
course,  I  can  make  it  up  with  an  immediate 
and  complete  apology."  Off  went  Toole  to  the 
coffee-room,  and  from  thence  there  soon  came 
the  sound  of  the  loud  voice  of  an  elderly  gen- 
tleman boiling  over  with  indignation,  the 
sharp  ringing  of  bells,  and  a  great  cry  for  the 
landlord.  Stopping  that  individual  in  the  pas- 
sage, Sothern  said,  "  I  'm  sorry  this  should 
have  happened.     Mr.  Toole,  the  comedian  is  in 


230  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

the  coffee-room,  and  I  have  reason  to  believe 
that  he  is  wantonly  insulting  one  of  your  old- 
est customers."  Then,  passing  quickly  into 
the  street,  he  hailed  a  cab,  and,  in  the  best  of 
spirits,  drove  away. 

Dr.  Westland  Marston  tells  the  famous  story 
of  Sothern  and  the  undertaker  as  follows: 

"  One  of  the  best  anecdotes  of  him  is  that 
which  tells  of  a  visit  to  a  furnishing  under- 
taker, from  whom  he  ordered,  on  a  most  elabo- 
rate scale,  all  that  was  necessary  for  a  funeral. 
Before  the  preparations  could  have  gone  far 
he  reappeared  with  great  solicitude  to  ask 
how  they  were  progressing.  Again,  at  a  brief 
interval,  he  presented  himself,  with  an  anx- 
ious face,  to  inquire  when  he  could  count  upon 
possession  of  the  body — a  question  which  natu- 
rally amazed  the  undertaker,  who  was  at  a 
loss  to  discover  his  meaning.  '  Of  course  you 
provide  the  body,'  said  Sothern,  coming  to  his 
enlightenment.  '  The  body ! '  stammered  the 
bewildered  undertaker.  '  Why,  do  you  not 
say,'  exclaimed  the  actor,  exhibiting  a  card  of 
the  shop,  ' "  All  things  necessary  for  funer- 
als promptly  supplied "  ?  Is  not  a  body  the 
very  first  necessity  ?  '  " 

Although  it  appeared  in  the  days  of  his  im- 
paired health,  the  following  extraordinary 
story,  contributed,  with  his  name  attached  to 
it,  to  the  1878  Christmas  number  of  the  ISew 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  231 

York  Spirit  of  the  Times,  may  suitably  be 
added  to  this  chapter  on  "  Sothern  in  High 
Spirits." 

AN     INCIDENT     IN     THE     LIFE     OF     A 
PAGAN  BABY, 

BY 
E.  A.  SOTHERN. 

"  The  little  story  I  am  about  to  relate  will 
possess  a  special  interest  for  those  who,  like 
myself,  have  occupied  some  portion  of  their 
leisure  in  the  fascinating  yet  perplexing  study 
of  metempsychosis.  It  will,  doubtless,  sur- 
prise many  to  whom  I  am  known  only  as  an 
amusing — perhaps  not  invariably  amusing — 
performer  on  the  dramatic  stage,  to  learn  that 
I  have,  for  more  than  thirty  years,  devoted  my 
spare  moments  to  the  investigation  of  this 
phenomenon,  on  the  severest  lines  of  the  analy- 
tic and  inductive  system  of  the  ancients.  But 
in  this  duplex  development  of  activity  I  am 
not  alone.  If  the  public  only  knew  as  much 
as  I  do  of  the  inner  and  separate  lives  of  those 
whom  the  public  so  liberally  establishes  as 
favourites,  people  would  cease  to  regard  the 
farceur  only  as  a  farceur,  the  entertainer  only 
as  an  entertainer,  the  comedian  only  as  a 
comedian,  and  might  now  and  then  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  philosopher's  robe  beneath  the 
gaudy    garments'    of    '  the    poor    player,    who 


232  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  stage,  and 
then  is  heard  no  more.' 

"  Will  my  readers  pardon  me  if,  for  one  seri- 
ous moment,  I  occupy  their  attention  with  a 
simple  statement  of  the  signification  which,  it 
appears  to  me,  should  inexorably  attach  to  the 
doctrine  of  metempsychosis?  It  may  make 
more  clear  the  true  bearing  of  the  singular 
story  which  I  have  undertaken  to  write  for 
the  Christmas  Spirit.  Inductive  philosophy, 
if  it  teaches  us  anything,  surely  establishes  as 
an  eternal  axiom  that  physical  promptings 
cannot,  with  impunity,  be  disregarded.  I  do 
not  overlook  or  undervalue  the  importance — 
the  sad  importance — of  unconquerable  Force, 
with  all  the  cruel  conditions  that  follow  in  its 
wake.  The  logic  of  facts  impels  us  irresistibly 
to  this  conclusion.  Nothing  in  nature  is  more 
certain;  and  those  who  refer  to  supernatural 
characteristics  the  overmastering  instincts  of 
elementary  humanity,  will  inevitably  eventu- 
ate in  that  deep  and  discordant  chaos  into 
which  the  daring  mind  must  fall,  which  de- 
fiantly assumes  to  limit  the  sphere  of  the  ma- 
terial man  to  an  incoherent  effort  to  give 
efficient  expression  to  the  Infinite  and  the 
Eternal.  I  ask  pardon  for  this  digression,  but 
it  was  necessary.  What  follows  will  now  be 
more  clearly  understood,  and  more  fully 
comprehended. 


"  THAT  'S   SAM'S   mother. 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  233 

"  In  the  month  of  October,  187 — ,  I  was  sit- 
ting on  the  balcony  of  a  small  hotel  in  the 

town  of .     I  think  it  better,  in  the  interest 

of  persons  still  living,  that  I  should  not  give 
the  names  of  places  which  might  be  identified. 
It  was  a  calm  evening;  the  leaves  were  falling 
and  fluttering  to  earth,  sad  emblems  of  the 
perennial  decay  of  nature  to  which  all  life 
submits.  A  grey-bearded,  aged  man,  wearing 
a  fez  cap,  was  silently  smoking  on  an  adjacent 
chair.  His  Orientalism  was  patent,  but  the 
diagnosis  of  his  nationality  was  sufficiently 
difficult.  With  a  lazy  efl;ort  of  careless  curi- 
osity, I  addressed  him,  making  a  remark  on 
the  beauty  of  the  weather;  but  he  smoked  on 
tranquilly  without  moving  his  head.  I  con- 
cluded from  his  silence  that  he  was  not  fa- 
miliar with  French,  German,  or  Italian,  and 
was  equally  unacquainted  with  the  somewhat 
unmusical  English  tongue.  My  knowledge  of 
Arabic,  I  regret  to  say,  is  limited  to  a  few 
everyday  phrases,  and  these  too  were  unavail- 
ing to  arouse  the  absorbed  attention  of  my 
neighbour.  I  tried  him  in  Telegu,  of  which 
I  speak  a  few  words,  with  no  better  result. 
Piqued  by  his  silence  and  my  own  failure,  I 
summoned  up  all  the  Chinese  I  had  acquired 
when  I  was  in  San  Francisco  and  Sacramento, 
and  was  agreeably  relieved  when,  at  once 
throwing  ofif  his   languor,   and  beaming  with 


2  34  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

vivacity  and  animation,  he  drew  his  chair  to- 
ward me,  and,  fixing  his  eyes  on  mine,  spoke 
rapidly  in  that  language  for  several  minutes. 
His  accent  was  peculiar,  a  kind  of  Perso-Copt 
intonation  permeating  his  delivery,  and  he 
made  frequent  employment  of  idiomatic  phrases 
which  I  readily  recognised  as  characteristics 
of  the  Cantonese;  but  I  understood  him  per- 
fectly, and  we  were  soon  engaged  in  a  most 
agreeable  conversation,  in  which,  I  must  mod- 
estly admit,  he  took  a  principal  part. 

"  Conversation  begat  confidence,  and  he  told 
me  the  story  of  his  life.  He  was  born  in  the 
village  of  Hi-Ho,  near  the  sources  of  the  well- 
known  '  Yellow  River.'  His  father  was  a 
maker  of  wooden  pattens,  used  by  the  Chinese 
in  damp  weather  as  a  needful  defence  against 
the  humidity  of  the  country.  Like  all  Chinese 
of  his  social  standing,  his  own  impoverished 
condition  was  no  hindrance  to  his  parental 
ambition.  He  was  fully  imbued  with  those 
sentiments  of  equality  which  are  so  remark- 
able a  feature  in  the  social  and  political 
condition  of  China,  where  the  extremes  of  re- 
publican theory  and  dynastic  autocracy  seem 
to  coexist  not  inharmoniously.  Ground  to  the 
earth  by  sordid  poverty,  living  in  a  chronic 
state  of  semi-starvation,  ignorant  as  a  pair  of 
his  own  pattens,  A-chi  cherished  the  confident 
aspiration  that  one  day  a  son  would  be  born 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  235 

to  him  in  his  mud-cabin  who  would  rise  to  the 
loftiest  pinnacle  of  state  in  the  empire.  In 
this  hope  he  was  justified,  and  in  this  expecta- 
tion he  was  not  disappointed.  The  day  ar- 
rived, and  an  infant  was  placed  in  his  arms 
on  whose  yet  undeveloped  features  the  fond 
father  could  trace,  with  the  eye  of  ambition 
and  exultation,  the  stamp  of  future  greatness. 

"  It  is  a  trite  remark  that,  in  ethics,  evil  is 
but  a  consequence  of  good;  sorrow  gives  birth 
to  joy;  memory  changes  into  misery;  what  is 
a  blessing  to-day  may  be  a  curse  to-morrow. 
There  is  evidence  to  warrant  the  opinion  that 
these  conclusions  are  not  fortuitous  nor  acci- 
dental, but  are  the  outcome  of  a  remorseless 
logic,  rooted  in  Fact  alone. 

''  I  myself  have  never  yielded  an  absolute 
acquiescence  to  the  doctrine  of  Confucius,  so 
ably  expounded  in  his  eleventh  book  of  his 
'  Moral  Propositions.'  Yet  in  the  career  of  the 
young  Chinese  whose  story  I  am  relating,  we 
might  discern  a  confirmation  of  all  the  great 
Chinese  apostle  has  advanced,  if  we  could  only 
abstract  our  confidence  from  vague  specula- 
tions, and  bind  it  rigorously  down  by  the  iron 
bands  of  reason,  and  reason  alone. 

"  But  I  wander  from  my  story.  Passing 
rapidly  through  the  communal  schools  of  the 
district,  and  the  College  of  Canton,  the  son  of 
A-chi,  who  as  yet  had  received  no  distinctive 


236  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

name,  for  reasons  which  will  appear  hereafter, 
reached  the  academic  acme  of  Chinese  acquire- 
ment, the  Athenaeum  of  Pekin,  where  his  grand 
effort  was  to  be  made.  His  remarkable  career 
had  already  attracted  general  notice,  and  a  re- 
port of  his  splendid  talents  had  been  made  to 
the  Grand  Central  Commissioner  of  Educa- 
tion, and  had  even  reached  the  Imperial  cham- 
ber itself.  Naturally,  when  the  culminating 
epoch  had  arrived,  and  the  son  of  A-chi,  the 
patten-maker  of  Hi-Ho,  entered  the  Examina- 
tion Hall,  and,  with  elaborate  ceremonial,  was 
inducted  into  the  secluded  apartment  from 
which  he  would  emerge,  after  many  days, 
either  first  of  the  first,  with  all  China  at  his 
feet,  or  a  broken  and  humiliated  creature,  the 
excitement  was  very  great.  Never  before  had 
a  youth  of  such  promise  passed  the  venerable 
portals.  The  destiny  of  the  very  empire  it- 
self might  hang  on  the  issue  of  the  trial. 
Every  precaution  was  adopted;  chosen  guards 
were  stationed  at  the  door  and  relieved  night 
and  day.  All  access  to  the  outer  world  and 
its  human  sympathies  was  jealously  cut  off. 
The  son  of  A-chi  was  alone  with  himself  and 
with  Fate. 

'^  From  that  hour  to  this  he  has  never  heen 
heard  of.  The  story  is  told.  The  reader  will 
draw  his  own  conclusions.  I  have  my  theory, 
which  must  for  ever  be  kept  secret.     Nothing 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  237 

would  induce  me  to  div^ulge  it,  or  even  give  a 
clue  to  the  solution  of  the  tremendous  mys- 
tery. The  consequence  might  be  too  dreadful. 
One  word,  and  one  word  only,  I  may  venture 
to  add.  This  story  is  literally  true.  On  that 
I  stake  my  credit  and  my  reputation.  But  if 
there  be — as  I  firmly  believe  there  are — minds 
so  acute  that  they  can,  as  it  were,  with  an  in- 
verted eye,  glance  in  '  behind  the  veil,'  there 
they  may  trace  the  mighty  workings  of  those 
eternal  principles  which  have  been  to  me  an 
inexpressible  consolation,  and  have  impressed 
deep  on  my  soul  the  assured  conviction  that 
we  are  happy  because  we  are  good,  that  every- 
thing is  nothing,  and  that  virtue  is  its  own 
reward." 

The  editor  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Times  says,  in 
an  "  editorial  note "  in  his  leading  columns : 
"  We  regard  that  incident  in  a  pagan  baby's 
life  as  Sothern's  latest  and  most  stupendous 
joke.  If  any  reader  can  inform  us  what  the 
incident  was,  or  where  the  pagan  baby  comes 
in,  his  penetration  exceeds  ours.  In  this  pro- 
duction we  can  only  fancy  that  Sothern  in- 
tends to  represent  the  inconsequential  intellect 
of  Dundreary  when  grappling  with  metaphy- 
sical or  psychological  themes.  There  is  no 
more  connection  between  the  title  and  what 
follows  it  than  there  is  betw^een  the  question 
and  answer  to  one  of  '  My  Lord's '  most  feeble 


238  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

conundrums.  The  reader  begins  the  article 
with  the  thought  that  Sothern  intends  to  be 
serious  for  once,  but  as  he  proceeds  he  finds 
himself  wallowing  in  a  bog  of  high-sounding 
inanity,  and  emerges  from  the  perusal  without 
an  idea  remaining.  What  Sothern  means  bv 
it  should  be  added  to  the  World's  list  of 
questions." 

Sothern's  friends  will  remember  his  odd  and 
irresistible  way  of  sending  out  an  invitation, 
"  Don't  forget,"  he  would  write  on  a  prodi- 
gious number  of  post-cards,  "  that  you  break- 
fast with  me  at  twelve  o'clock  on  Sunday,  the 
—  inst."  Each  recipient  of  the  communication 
would  probably  jump  to  the  conclusion  that  he 
had  made  an  appointment  which  he  had  forgot- 
ten, accept  this  as  a  reminder,  and  make  a 
very  special  point  of  keeping  his  supposed  en- 
gagement. And  when  he  found  himself  under 
Sothern's  roof,  and  in  the  presence  of  a  veri- 
table host  of  mutual  friends,  he  would  have 
occasion  to  remember  not  only  the  quaint  in- 
vitation but  his  unbounded  hospitality. 

Sothern's  elaborately  planned  practical  jokes 
were  never  absolutely  complete  to  him  unless 
he  contrived  to  get  them  noticed  in  a  news- 
paper. On  the  face  of  it  this  looks  like  a  de- 
sire for  advertisement;  but  I  do  not  believe 
that  this  had  anything  to  do  with  it.  He 
knew  a  good  deal  about  newspapers,  and  was 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  239 

fully  alive  to  the  fact  that  those  who  have  to 
do  with  them  are  generally  on  the  alert. 
When  he  could,  to  use  his  own  words,  "  sell  an 
editor,"  his  joy  was  supreme.  A  remarkably 
successful  effort  in  this  direction  (although  the 
cutting  is  before  me  I  may  be  excused  from 
mentioning  the  name  of  the  paper  from  which 
it  was  taken)  runs  as  follows: 

"  A  Crazy   Admirer. 

'^  Singula?'  Conduct  in  a  Theatre. 

"At  the  Canterbury  Theatre,  the  other  even- 
ing, Mr.  Sothern  and  Mr.  Sefton's  London 
Company  were  performing  '  David  Garrick,' 
the  principal  lady  part  in  which  was  filled 
by  Miss  Amy  Roselle,  a  very  graceful  and 
pleasing  young  actress.  Shortly  before  the 
curtain  rose,  a  pretty  little  bouquet  of  snow- 
drops and  green  leaves  was  left  at  the  stage 
door,  with  a  note  addressed  to  Miss  Roselle, 
couched  in  terms  of  admiration,  but  jjerfectly 
respectful  and  polite.  The  writer  said  he  had 
come  from  Tunbridge  Wells  to  see  Miss  Ro- 
selle act  once  more,  and  offered  '  the  few  first 
flowers  of  spring '  for  her  acceptance,  hoping 
she  would  wear  them.  There  was  nothing  in 
this  to  create  much  surprise,  such  floral  trib- 
utes to  pretty  and  popular  actresses  being  not 
uncommon.     Miss  Roselle  wore  the  snowdrops 


240  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

in  the  opening  act  of  the  play,  during  the 
course  of  which  a  second  note,  this  time  writ- 
ten in  pencil,  but  on  the  same  kind  of  paper, 
was  delivered  at  the  stage  door.  This  epistle 
was  more  ardent,  and  induced  a  suspicion  of 
the  perfect  sanity  of  the  writer,  which  was 
turned  into  certainty  by  what  followed.  Dur- 
ing the  second  act  a  third  note  found  its  way 
to  the  green-room,  and  this  time  the  undis- 
ciplined feelings  of  the  swain  had  found  vent 
in  poetry.     The  following  lines  were  enclosed: 

*  I  '11   dream   of   thee   to-night,    Roselle, 
I'll   dream  of  thee  to-night; 
Thy  face  will  haunt  my  dreams,  Roselle, 

Though  absent  from  my  sight; 
My  love  for  thee  no  words  can  tell, 
My  own,  my  beautiful  Roselle! 

'  F.  R.  M.' 

The  writer  said  he  was  occupying  a  stall,  the 
number  of  which  he  indicated.  At  the  end  of 
the  play  Miss  Roselle  found  awaiting  her  a 
fourth  letter  with  a  parcel.  The  former  con- 
tained a  most  enthusiastic  declaration  of  ar- 
dent affection,  referred  to  the  writer's  large 
properties  in  the  West  Indies,  and  solicited 
permission  to  present  to  her  the  accompany- 
ing example  of  the  produce  of  an  estate  in 
Havana — the  said  '  example '  proving  on  ex- 
amination to  be  an  enormous  piece  of  sugar- 
stick,   literally  stick,   for   it  was  upwards   of 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  241 

two  feet  long,  and  fully  an  inch  thick.  The 
sender  of  the  singular  token  said  he  was  in 
mourning  for  his  mother,  and  that,  however 
peculiar  his  conduct  might  appear,  he  really 
was  not  mad,  though  false  friends  said  he  was. 
In  a  postscript  he  added  that  he  now  was  go- 
ing to  purchase  something  which  he  hoped  Miss 
Roselle  would  wear  for  his  sake.  In  about  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  a  fifth  letter  was  handed 
in,  containing  a  soft  parcel.  When  this  was 
examined  it  proved  to  be  a  penny  packet  of 
egg  powder  for  making  custards,  and  a  state- 
ment that  he  who  placed  this  token  at  her 
fair  feet  was  ready  to  die  for  her  if  necessary. 
By  this  time  there  was  no  room  for  doubt  as 
to  there  being  a  lunatic  among  the  audience, 
and  a  watch  being  set,  a  respectably  attired 
and  gentlemanly-looking  man,  with  a  very  wild 
eye  and  excited  demeanour,  was  remarked  in 
the  back  of  the  pit.  Just  as  the  last  piece — in 
which  Miss  Roselle  did  not  appear — was  being 
played,  this  person  was  observed  to  jump  up 
and  down,  and  to  throw  his  arms  about  wildly; 
but  the  officials  of  the  theatre  being  prepared, 
he  was  at  once  quietly  but  firmly  removed, 
without  attracting  the  attention  of  the  audi- 
ence. He  went  away  perfectly  quiet,  and 
without  remonstrance  or  resistance,  from  which 
it  may  be  concluded  he  was  the  author  of  the 
extraordinary  series  of  letters,  and  the  sender 


242  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

of  the  still  more  extraordinary  tokens  of  ad- 
miration which  we  have  described.  Not  being 
known  by  any  one  about  the  theatre,  it  is  sup- 
posed that  he  had  really,  as  he  said,  come  over 
from  Tunbridge  Wells." 

The  whole  of  this  ridiculous  story  is  per- 
fectly true  up  to  the  period  of  the  presenta- 
tion of  the  egg  powder.  So  far  Sothern,  in  one 
of  his  wild  moods,  could  easily  plan  it;  but 
there  was  no  madman  in  the  stalls,  and  no 
scene  in  the  pit,  and  no  removal  of  any  one. 
After  the  performance  was  over  Sothern  in- 
vited the  editor  of  the  country  paper  to  chat 
with  him  in  the  hotel  in  which  he  was  stay- 
ing, and,  talking  over  "  the  strange  occur- 
rences of  the  evening,"  very  easily  induced  him 
to  ask  a  friend  who  was  present  to  write  an 
account  of  them  for  his  paper.  Then  a  sub- 
sequent paragraph  went  the  round  of  the  pa- 
pers to  the  effect  that  this  same  "  lunatic 
lover  "  would  go  to  the  theatres  in  which  Miss 
Roselle  appeared,  "  dressed  all  in  blue,  with  a 
packet  of  Borwick's  baking  powder  ready  to 
throw  at  the  feet  of  the  subject  of  his  adora- 
tion," and  Sothern  was  perfectly  happy.  I 
do  not  think  that  until  many  years  later  on 
Miss  Amy  Roselle  (now  Mrs.  Arthur  Dacre, 
and  under  whose  permission  I  publish  this 
anecdote)  knew  that  she  had  been  the  victim 
of  a  hoax. 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  243 

In  America,  Sothern  seemed  to  find  news- 
paper reports  of  his  ridiculous  escapades  easier 
to  obtain  than  in  England,  and  that,  in  his  odd 
way,  he  set  great  store  by  them  is  proved  by 
his  own  carefully  kept  scrap-book,  which  still 
exists.  Again  let  me  say  that  I  do  not  believe 
that  Sothern  did  these  things  for  the  sake  of 
notoriety.  No  actor  was  ever  more  keenly 
alive  to  the  commercial  value  in  these  adver- 
tising days  of  legitimate  (perhaps  I  ought  to 
add,  and  illegitimate)  advertisement,  and  to 
obtain  one  I  have  known  him  do  extraordinary 
things  (such  as  giving  a  sovereign  to  a  railway 
porter,  where  sixpence  would  have  sufficed,  so 
that  he  might  talk  to  his  comrades  of  the  mu- 
nificence of  Sothern,  and  set  them  thinking  they 
would  go  and  see  this  auriferous  being  on  the 
stage)  ;  but  with  him  these  jokes  were  a  thing 
apart,  that  satisfied  some  curious  want  in  his 
restless  nature.  He  did  not  retain  a  single 
advertisement  of  his  stage  performances,  but 
he  carefully  cherished  the  records  of  his 
diablerie.  Let  me  quote  from  his  scrap- 
book. 

During  one  of  his  American  engagements 
(it  was  in  1878)  he  inveigled  some  one  into 
writing  to  the  Inter-Ocean  as  follows: 

"Is  Mr.  Sothern  a  medium?  This  is  the 
question  that  fifteen  puzzled  investigators  are 
asking  themselves  this  morning,  after  witness- 


244  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

ing  a  number  of  astounding  manifestations  at  a 
a  private  seance  given  by  Mr.  Sothern  last 
night. 

"  It  lacked  a  few  minutes  of  twelve  when  a 
number  of  Mr.  Sothern's  friends,  who  had  been 
given  to  understand  that  something  remark- 
able was  to  be  performed,  assembled  in  the 
former's  rooms  at  the  Sherman  House,  and 
took  seats  in  a  circle  around  a  marble-top 
table  which  was  placed  in  the  centre  of  the 
apartment.  On  the  table  were  a  number  of 
glasses,  two  very  large  bottles,  and  five  lem- 
ons. A  sprightly  young  gentleman  attempted 
to  crack  a  joke  about  spirits  being  confined  in 
the  bottles,  but  the  company  frowned  him 
down,  and  for  once  Mr.  Sothern  had  a  sober 
audience  to  begin  with. 

"  There  was  a  good  deal  of  curiosity  regard- 
ing the  object  of  the  gathering,  but  no  one  was 
able  to  explain.  Each  gentleman  testified  to 
the  fact  that  Mr.  Sothern's  agent  had  waited 
upon  him,  and  solicited  his  presence  at  a  little 
exhibition  to  be  given  by  the  actor,  not  of  a 
comical  nature. 

"  Mr.  Sothern  himself  soon  after  appeared, 
and,  after  shaking  hands  with  the  party,  thus 
addressed  them: 

" '  Gentlemen,  I  have  invited  you  here  this 
evening  to  witness  a  few  manifestations,  dem- 
onstrations, tests,  or  whatever  you  choose  to 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  245 

call  them,  which  I  have  accidentally  discovered 
that  I  am  able  to  perform. 

"  *  I  am  a  fire-eater,  as  it  were.  (Applause.) 
I  used  to  dread  the  fire,  having  been  scorched 
once  when  an  innocent  child.  (A  laugh.)  I 
hope  there  will  be  no  levity  here,  and  I  wish  to 
say  now  that  demonstrations  of  any  kind  are 
liable  to  upset  me,  while  demonstrations  of 
particular  kinds  may  upset  the  audience.' 

''  Silence  and  decorum  being  restored,  Mr. 
Sothern  thus  continued : 

"  <  Thirteen  weeks  ago,  while  walking  up 
Greenwich  Street  in  New  York,  I  stepped  into 
a  store  to  buy  a  cigar.  To  show  you  there  was 
no  trick  about  it,  here  are  cigars  out  of  the 
same  box  from  which  I  selected  the  one  that 
I  that  day  lighted.' 

"  Here  Mr.  Sothern  passed  round  a  box  of 
tolerable  cigars. 

"  '  Well !  I  stepped  to  the  little  hanging  gas- 
jet  to  light  it,  and,  having  done  so,  stood  con- 
templatively holding  the  cigar  and  the  gas-jet 
in  either  hand,  thinking  what  a  saving  it  would 
be  to  smoke  a  pipe,  when,  in  my  absent-mind- 
edness, I  dropped  the  cigar  and  put  the  gas-jet 
into  my  mouth.  Strange  as  it  may  appear, 
I  felt  no  pain,  and  stood  there  holding  the 
thing  in  my  mouth  and  puffing,  until  the  man 
in  charge  yelled  out  to  me  that  I  was  swal- 
lowing his  gas.     Then  I  looked  up,  and  sure 


246  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

enough  there  I  was,  pulling  away  at  the  slen- 
der flame  that  came  from  the  glass  tube. 

"  '  I  dropped  it  instantly  and  felt  my  mouth, 
but  noticed  no  inconvenience  or  unpleasant 
sensation  whatever. 

'''''What  do  you  mean  by  it?"  asked  the 
proprietor. 

"  '  As  I  did  n't  know  what  I  meant  by  it  I 
could  n't  answer,  so  I  picked  up  my  cigar  and 
went  home.  Once  there,  I  tried  the  experi- 
ment again,  and  in  doing  so  I  found  that  not 
only  my  mouth,  but  my  hands  and  face,  in- 
deed, all  my  body,  was  proof  against  fire.  I 
called  on  a  physician,  and  he  examined  me  and 
reported  nothing  wrong  with  my  flesh,  which 
appeared  to  be  in  its  normal  condition.  I  said 
nothing  about  it  publicly,  but  the  fact  greatly 
surprised  me,  and  I  have  invited  you  here  to- 
night to  witness  a  few  experiments.' 

"  Saying  this,  Mr.  Sothern,  who  had  lit  a 
cigar  while  pausing  in  his  speech,  turned  the 
fire-end  into  his  mouth,  and  sat  down  smoking 
unconcernedly. 

"  I  suppose  you  wish  to  give  us  the  fire  test?  ' 
remarked  one  of  the  company. 

"  There  was  probably  a  company  never  more 
dumfounded  than  that  present  in  the  room- 
A  few  questions  were  asked,  and  then  five 
gentlemen  were  appointed  to  examine  Mr. 
Sothern's  hands,  etc.,  before  he  began  his  ex- 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  247 

periments.  Having  thoroughly  washed  the 
parts  that  he  proposed  to  subject  to  the  flames, 
Mr.  Sothern  began  by  baring  his  arm,  and 
passing  it  through  the  gas-jet  very  slowly, 
twice  stopping  the  motion,  and  holding  it  still 
in  the  flames.  He  then  picked  up  a  poker  with 
a  sort  of  hook  on  the  end,  and  proceeded  to 
fish  a  small  coil  of  wire  from  the  grate.  The 
wire  came  out  fairly  white  with  heat.  Mr. 
Sothern  took  the  coil  in  his  hands  and  coolly 
proceeded  to  wrap  it  round  his  left  leg  to  the 
knee.  Having  done  so,  he  stood  on  the  table 
in  the  centre  of  the  circle,  and  requested  the 
committee  to  examine  the  wrappings  and  the 
leg,  and  report  if  both  were  there.  The  com 
mittee  did  so,  and  reported  in  the  affirmative. 

"  While  this  was  going  on  there  was  a  smile, 
almost  seraphic  in  its  beauty,  on  Sothern 's 
face. 

"  After  this,  an  enormous  iron,  in  the  shape 
of  a  horse-shoe,  was  brought  in,  and  after  be- 
ing heated  red-hot  was  placed  over  his  neck 
and  shoulders  like  a  horse-collar,  where  it 
cooled,  and  was  taken  off  without  leaving  a 
sign   of  a  burn. 

"  As  a  final  test  a  tailor's  goose  was  put  on 
the  coals,  and,  after  being  thoroughly  heated, 
was  placed  on  Mr.  Sothern's  chair.  The  lat- 
ter lighted  a  fresh  cigar,  and  then  coolly  took 
his  seat  on  the  goose  without  the  least  seem- 


248  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

ing  inconvenience.  During  the  last  experi- 
ment, Mr.  Sothern  sang  in  excellent  taste  and 
voice,  '  I  'm  sitting  on  the  stile,  Mary.' 

"  The  question  now  is,  were  the  fifteen  audi- 
tors of  Mr.  Sothern  fooled  and  deceived,  or 
was  this  a  genuine  manifestation  of  extraor- 
dinary power?  Sothern  is  such  an  inveterate 
joker  that  he  may  have  put  the  thing  upon 
the  boys  for  his  own  amusement,  but  if  so  it 
was  one  of  the  nicest  tricks  ever  witnessed  by, 
"  Yours  truly, 
"  One  of  the  Committee. 

"  P.S. — What  is  equally  marvellous  to  me  is 
that  the  fire  did  n't  burn  his  clothes  where  it 
touched  them,  any  more  than  his  flesh." 

Although  he  inserted  this  remarkable  com- 
munication, the  editor  of  the  Inter  Ocean  seems 
to  "  have  had  his  doubts,"  for  he  adds  in  a 
foot-note : 

["  There  is  nothing  new  in  this.  Mr.  Soth- 
ern has  long  been  known  as  one  of  the  most 
expert  jugglers  in  the  profession.  Some  years 
ago  he  gained  the  soubriquet  of  '  the  Fire 
King.'  He  frequently  amuses  his  friends  by 
eating  fire,  though  he  long  since  ceased  to  give 
public  exhibitions.  Probably  the  success  of 
the  experiments  last  night  was  largely  owing 
to  the  presence  of  the  lemons.  There  is  a  good 
deal  of  trickery  in  those  same  lemons."] 


MR.    E.    A.    SOTHERN    AS    LORD    DUNDREARY. 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  249 

The  ubiquitous  American  interviewer  was 
no  doubt  considered  by  Sothern  as  the  fairest 
of  fair  game  for  his  "  sells."  Here  is  an  ac- 
count that  he  gave  to  one  of  them  of  the  origin 
of  "  The  Crushed  Tragedian,"  the  original 
creation  of  H.  J.  Byron: 

"  '  "  The  Crushed  Tragedian,"  '  said  Mr.  Soth- 
ern, '  presents  a  character  that  I  discovered 
under  very  quaint  circumstances  about  five 
years  since,  while  travelling  in  a  carriage  of 
the  Midland  Railway  of  England.  My  only 
companion  was  an  extraordinary  creature, 
whose  reproduction  is  the  Fitzaltamont  of  the 
play.  Shortly  after  the  train  started,  the 
stranger,  who  had  been  suspiciously  restless, 
rose  to  his  feet  and  began  pacing  the  carriage, 
muttering  deeply  the  while.  As  his  frenzy  in- 
creased, I  became  alarmed,  and  speculated 
upon  the  chances  of  jumping  through  the  win- 
dow. Just  as  the  train  reached  the  mouth  of 
a  tunnel,  the  fellow  seized  me  by  the  arm.  I, 
wide  awake,  but  terrified,  struck  him  a  blow 
between  the  eyes,  knocking  him  down,  and  as 
I  knelt  upon  his  chest  I  asked  him,  with  nat- 
ural asperity,  what  the  devil  he  wanted.  The 
luckless  wretch,  gasping  for  breath,  whispered, 
"  Wanted  ?  Why,  I  wanted  you  to  buy  a  box 
for  my  benefit  at  Birmingham."  This,'  he 
concluded,  '  was  the  original  Crushed  Trage- 
dian.'   I  asked  Mr.  Sothern  if  he  bought  the 


250  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

box,  and  although  he  made  me  no  answer,  I 
am  satisfied  that  when  the  genuine  and  since 
counterfeit  articles  separated,  there  was 
enough  crisp  paper  in  the  pocket  of  a  certain 
threadbare  vest  to  buy  something  more  than  a 
bottle  of  arnica." 

Another  interviewer,  not  quite  so  easily 
taken  in,  had  the  laugh  of  Sothern,  by  pub 
lishing  his  nonsense  as  follows : 

"  I  believe  I  mentioned  Mr.  Sothern's  hesita- 
tion in  saying  anything  about  himself.  I  had 
great  difficulty  in  overcoming  it,  but  finally 
succeeded  in  worming  out  of  him  certain  re- 
markable facts  in  his  history  which  enable  me 
to  give  you  a  succinct  biography,  which,  in  the 
event  of  his  death,  can  be  built  upon  and  serve 
as  an  obituary.  The  facts  that  I  give  you, 
although  a  trifle  different  from  the  public  be- 
lief in  regard  to  the  gentleman,  I  can  vouch 
for  as  strictly  correct,  for  I  gained  every  line 
of  my  information  from  himself.  Mr.  Sothern 
claims  to  be  a  Turk.  The  newspaper  reports 
that  have  been  widely  circulated  to  the  effect 
that  he  is  a  Russian,  he  indignantly  denies,  and 
states  that  they  are  utterly  untrue.  I  have, 
in  addition  to  his  own  statement,  other  good 
authority  for  this,  and  I  am  satisfied  that  he 
is  a  Turk.  He  was  born  in  Constantinople  on 
the  fourth  day  of  March,  1829.  This  was  the 
year  when  the  celebrated — but  I  am  wander- 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  251 

iug  from  my  topic.  His  early  youth  was  only 
remarkable  for  his  failure  to  distinguish  him- 
self. This  however,  he  hopes  to  overcome.  He 
has  done  more  to  annihilate  the  institution  of 
the  harem  than  any  other  Moslem  on  the  stage. 
His  father,  as  every  one  is  aware,  was  a  Rus- 
sian. His  mother  was  a  Polish  exile.  His 
early  life  was  passed  in  Tartary,  hence  his  ex- 
traordinary knowledge  of  languages,  and  his 
passionate  appetite  for  Siberian  crab-apples 
and  tonic  beer.  It  seems  sad  to  learn  that  he 
contemplates  leaving  the  stage,  but  with  his 
peculiar  vein  of  humour  there  is,  when  I  think 
of  it,  no  reason  why  he  should  not  make  a  suc- 
cessful undertaker.  He  informs  me  that  at 
the  close  of  his  engagement  in  Baltimore  he 
will  proceed  at  once  to  Pekin,  China,  where  he 
has  made  a  brief  engagement  at  the  Royal 
Opera  House.  He  also  contemplates  a  visit  to 
Africa  and  Eastern  Shore,  Maryland.  His  ob 
ject  in  visiting  the  latter  section  of  the  coun- 
try is  to  be  on  hand  when,  under  existing 
laws,  a  vacancy  exists  for  United  States  sena- 
tor. He  is  now  making  arrangements  with 
George  Francis  Train,  Benjamin  F.  Butler, 
and  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  for  a  course  of  in- 
struction to  fit  him  to  become  a  member  of  the 
second  branch  of  the  Baltimore  city  council, 
where  he  intends  making  his  political  del)  11 1. 
With  these  few  remarks  with  regard  to  Mr. 


252  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Sothern,  I  will  close  by  saying,  '  Truth  is  often 
stranger  than  fiction.'  "  ^ 

On  being  "  interviewed "  concerning  the  | 
"  fire  test,"  and  a  "  challenge  "  that  had  been 
sent  him  in  connection  therewith,  Sothern  sent 
for  the  manager  of  the  hotel  in  which  he  was 
staying,  and  in  which  the  so-called  experi- 
ments had  been  carried  on,  and  said: 

"  Now,  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  '11  do.  I  '11  send 
for  an  ironmonger  and  have  the  floor  plated 
with  boiler  iron,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  build 
a  furnace  in  the  centre  of  the  room.  I  merely 
want  to  make  the  test.  I  don't  want  to  bet, 
because  then  I  should  feel  as  if  I  were  swin- 
dling somebody.  I  have  never  tried  this,  but  I 
feel  perfectly  sure  of  the  result." 

"What  do  you  want  with  the  furnace?" 
asked  the  hotel  manager. 

"  I  will  permit  myself,"  said  Sothern,  "  to 
be  imbedded  in  a  mass  of  any  kind  of  fuel  my 
challenger  may  select — tar  barrels,  and  resin, 
ad  libitum.  Then  I  will  allow  any  member  of 
a  committee  to  apply  the  torch." 

"  Is  n't  that  going  a  little  too  far,  Mr.  Soth- 
ern ?  "  asked  the  newspaper  interviewer. 

"  Well,  I  may  be  mistaken,"  replied  Sothern, 
"  but  I  feel  sure  of  the  result — sure  of  it.  At 
all  events,  I  will  give  ten  thousand  dollars  to 
any  charitable  fund  in  this  city  if  I  do  not 
come  out  unscathed." 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  253 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  hotel  manager,  with 
his  eyes  like  saucers. 

"  Provided,"  continued  Sothern,  ^'  that  my 
challenger  will  undergo  the  same  test  at  the 
same  time — neither  of  us  to  remain  in  the  fur- 
nace more  than  fifteen  minutes  after  the  whole 
mass  of  fuel  shall  be  in  flames,  and  both  of  us 
to  be  perfectly  nude." 

This  point  of  the  question  having  been  set- 
tled, the  interviewer  went  on: 

"  Have  you  ever,  Mr.  Sothern,  submitted 
yourself  to  any  other  tests?" 

''  Oh  yes ;  I  once  played  six  weeks  in  Phila- 
delphia during  the  Exhibition,  with  the  ther- 
mometer in  my  dressing-room  at  128." 

How  he  showed  up  the  tricks  of  a  profes- 
sional mesmerist  is  in  the  Chicago  Tribune 
thus  recorded: 

"  A  few  days  since,  Mr.  Sothern,  who  is 
often  credited  with  being  a  spiritual  medium, 
but  who  is  in  reality  a  '  hard-shell '  sceptic  in 
regard  to  all  such  matters,  invited  Mr.  Car- 
penter to  his  rooms  in  the  Sherman  House,  for 
the  purpose  of  testing  his  powers.  Favourable 
enough  conditions  were  named,  but  Mr.  Car- 
penter saw  fit  to  postpone  the  stance  till  yes- 
terday afternoon,  when  a  select  party  of  some 
fifteen  people — at  least  one-third  of  them  be- 
ing ladies — were  present.  If  sincerity  of  pur- 
pose can  be  named  as  a  favourable  condition 


254  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

for  such  manifestations,  the  Professor  could 
certainly  have  found  no  cause  to  object.  It 
was  not  one  of  Sothern's  '  sells '  by  any  means. 
The  company  were  one  and  all  prepared  to  be 
convinced,  and  they  submitted  to  the  manipu- 
lations of  the  operator  very  readily.  But, 
alas!  one  after  another  persisted  in  declining 
to  keep  their  eyes  closed  after  being  com- 
manded to  do  so.  There  was  not  one  who 
would  see  snakes  in  canes,  or  babies  in  broom- 
handles,  or  perform  any  funny  tricks  at  the 
bidding  of  the  magician.  The  Professor  sud- 
denly discovered  that  he  had  struck  an  obsti- 
nate crowd  of  folks  who  had  no  object  in  being 
duped. 

"  Ah !  yes ;  there  was  one, — an  uninvited 
guest, — a  very  young  man  of  mild  aspect,  with 
dreamy  eyes  and  uncertain  features,  who  had 
come  into  the  room  almost  unobserved.  He 
turned  out  to  be  a  friend  of  Mr.  Carpenter's 
The  mesmerist,  after  making  futile  passes  over 
the  eyes  of  all  the  rest,  suddenly  found  in  the 
eyes  of  the  young  person  a  remarkably  sensi- 
tive organisation.  He  mesmerised  him  in  five 
seconds.  He  made  him  nearly  tumble  off  a 
piano  stool ;  he  caused  him  to  stiffen  his  arms ; 
he  invited  the  company  to  pinch  his  hands, 
which,  he  claimed,  were  dead  to  the  sense  of 
touch.  It  would  have  been  a  convincing  test 
to  an  ordinary  audience,  but  it  was  a  very  ill- 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  255 

disguised  case  of  confederacy  to  all  the  guests 
in  the  room. 

"  Mr.  Sothern  took  a  brass  pin  from  one  of 
the  ladies  and  deliberately  bored  it  through  the 
lobe  of  his  own  ear,  never  changing  a  muscle. 
'  Now,'  he  said,  '  you  can  stick  a  knife  through 
my  hand,  and  I  won't  flinch.  I  can  do  that 
awake.     Is  that  any  proof  of  your  powers?' 

"  The  Professor  gave  it  up,  and  the  young 
man  sat  down  rather  sheepishly.  Mr.  Carpen- 
ter, of  course,  claimed,  as  most  spiritual  medi- 
iums  do,  that  the  physical  and  atmospheric 
conditions  were  unfavourable,  and  so  forth. 
The  seance  proved  to  be  a  conspicuous  failure, 
as  seances  generally  do  in  the  presence  of  a 
company  of  intelligent  people,  unless  with  the 
aid  of  intelligent  confederates.  The  inference 
is  that  the  people  who  so  amused  the  audience 
at  Mr.  Carpenter's  seance  at  the  theatre  last 
Sunday  had  had  a  careful  rehearsal  of  their 
parts  before  they  went  on  to  the  stage  to  make 
fools  of  themselves.  There  may  be  something 
in  mesmerism,  but  there  is  evidently  something 
in  Mr.  Carpenter's  operations  that  calls  for 
investigation  by  believers,  if  believers  can  be 
persuaded  to  doubt  at  all. 

"  At  the  close  of  the  exhibition  Mr.  Sothern 
mesmerised  the  entire  company,  one  after  an- 
other, in  a  manner  which  would  have  convinced 
any  audience  that  he  possessed  supernatural 


256  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

power,  did  they  not  know, — what  turned  out 
to  be  the  fact, — that  by  a  clever  contrivance  of 
the  arch- juggler  every  member  of  the  party 
was  trying  to  fool  each  other.  This  may  not 
be  the  whole  secret  of  mesmerism ;  but  '  con- 
fedding,'  as  Sothern  calls  it,  evidently  con- 
stitutes an  important  element  in  the  operations 
of  Mr.  Carpenter.  When  next  he  gives  an  ex- 
hibition, it  may  be  well  to  interview  his  '  sub- 
jects,' and  find  out  who  they  are,  and  what 
inducements  they  had  to  go  out  of  their  minds 
for  the  amusement  of  the  public." 

An  escapade  that  gained  for  Sothern  the 
doubtful  notoriety  of  an  awful  illustration  in 
an  Illustrated  Police  News,  entitled,  "  Sothern 
the  Comedian,  and  the  Ruffian  Intruder,"  and 
in  which  the  soul  of  this  inveterate  practical 
joker  absolutely  revelled,  was  thus  reported 
in  a  Californian  paper :  "  We  have  already  in- 
formed our  readers  that  Mr.  Sothern,  during 
his  trip  from  New  York,  had  got  into  some 
little  trouble  on  the  cars.  Our  reporter  called 
on  Mr.  Sothern,  but  was  unable  to  see  him. 
Our  reporter  then  interviewed  the  conductor. 
It  appears  that  Mr.  Towne  had  the  thoughtful 
courtesy  to  telegraph  to  Odgen  to  the  effect 
that  Mr.  Sothern  was  to  have  the  sole  use  of 
the  directors'  car.  Mr.  Sothern  appreciated 
the  kind  compliment,  and  telegraphed  his 
thanks.    The  following  morning,  however,  he 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  257 

discovered  a  six-feet-twoer  calmly  stretched  on 
his  sofa,  coolly  smoking  his  cigars,  and  sip- 
ping his  iced  claret.  Mr.  Sothern  suggested,  in 
the  gentlest  terms,  that  the  big  stranger  had 
made  a  slight  mistake,  as  the  car  was  a  pri- 
vate one.  '  Private  be  hanged ! '  exclaimed  the 
stalwart  stranger.  '  It 's  big  enough  for  a 
dozen  thin  fellows  like  you ! '  '  Possibly,'  re- 
plied Mr.  Sothern ;  '  but  as  you  have  not  even 
the  politeness  to  apologise  for  the  intrusion, 
I  request  you  to  leave  it.'  '  Not  if  I  know  it,' 
ejaculated  the  brawny  stranger.  Enter  the 
conductor.  Conductor:  'Now  then,  sir;  please 
to  move  to  your  own  seat.'  Mysterious 
stranger:  *■  If  either  of  you  bother  me  any 
longer,  I  '11  knock  your  heads  together  and 
pitch  you  out  of  the  car.  It 's  only  going 
twenty-five  miles  an  hour,  and  it  won't  hurt 
much.'  Sothern  {coolly  talcing  his  coat  off)  : 
'  Come,  this  is  getting  interesting.  Conductor, 
sit  down  and  do  a  gentle  smoke  whilst  I  en- 
deavour to  bring  our  large  friend  to  his 
senses,'  Conductor  sits  and  smokes.  Gloomy 
stranger  rises,  glares,  and  makes  a  rush  at 
Sothern,  hitting  him  a  blow  on  the  mouth, 
'  There,  that  settles  the  matter,'  says  the 
stranger,  '  Not  quite,'  replied  Sothern ;  and, 
playfully  giving  him  one,  two,  three,  on  the  eyes, 
nose,  and  mouth,  closes  with  him,  and  sends 
him  spinning  over  the  rail  at  the  end  of  the 


258  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

car.  The  alarm  is  given,  and  the  train  stops. 
The  mysterious  stranger  is  picked  up  insensi- 
ble, bleeding  at  the  nose,  ears,  and  mouth. 
Sothern  relinquishes  the  private  car  to  him. 
A  doctor  on  the  train  attends  to  him,  and 
says,  '  A  compound  fracture.'  He  still  lies  in 
extreme  danger;  but  the  verdict  of  every  one 
is,  '  Served  him  right.'  " 

Concerning  the  exact  truth  of  this  advent- 
ure, Sothern  was  always  reticent.  There  was, 
beyond  all  doubt,  a  noisy  struggle  in  a  rail- 
way carriage  between  him  and  what  looked 
very  like  a  man, — and  a  something  wearing 
coat,  waistcoat,  and  trousers  was  by  him 
hurled  from  the  train, — but  it  is  quite  certain 
that  he  never  in  that  way  took,  or  nearly  took, 
the  life  of  a  fellow-creature.  The  story,  how- 
ever, got  about  and  was  implicitly  believed. 
The  coarsely  executed  engraving,  showing 
Sothern  wrestling  with  a  veritable  giant,  is  in 
its  way  delicious,  and  at  the  time  of  its  ap- 
pearance gave  him  infinite  delight. 

Another  "  illustrated "  episode,  which  ap- 
peared in  a  similar  publication,  was  entitled, 
"  Farewell  Appearance  of  Mr.  Sothern  at  an 
Unlicensed  Performance  on  Ramsgate  Sands. 
An  Acrobat  Discomfited,"  and  was  described 
as  follows: 

"  Considerable    excitement    was    caused    on 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  259 

Ramsgate  Sands  the  other  morning  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  man  with  his  arms  tied  behind 
him,  raving  and  shouting  at  the  top  of  his 
voice,  and  a  crowd  around  him  convulsed  with 
laughter.  The  man  was,  it  seems,  a  travelling 
mountebank,  performing  what  he  called  the 
rope  trick;  and  on  the  morning  in  question  he 
had  offered  himself  to  be  tied  up  by  any  of  the 
bystanders.  Mr.  Sothern,  the  comedian,  pass- 
ing at  the  time,  determined  to  try  upon  him 
the  effect  of  his  celebrated  '  Tom  Fool  Knot.' 
The  success  of  it  was  proved  beyond  doubt  by 
the  acrobat  stamping  about  for  an  hour  with 
fruitless  endeavours  to  get  loose,  when  Mr. 
Sothern  took  compassion  on  him  and  undid  his 
bonds." 

This  anecdote  was  founded  on  absolute 
fact. 

I  will  conclude  a  chapter  which,  if  I  related 
all  the  jokes  in  which  Sothern  acted  as  prin- 
cipal or  took  part,  might  be  spun  out  into  a 
goodly  sized  volume,  with  an  account  of  one 
(I  am  afraid  it  has  often  been  told  before) 
eminently  characteristic  of  him.  At  a  dinner 
party  in  his  own  house,  at  which  ten  gentlemen 
were  present,  his  friend  and  sometime  agent, 
Mr.  English,  was  apparently  unexpectedly  an- 
nounced. Sothern  immediately  appealed  to 
his   guests   to    conceal   themselves   under   the 


26o  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

dinner-table,  declaring  that  they  would  "  sell " 
English  in  a  manner  beyond  all  precedent. 
His  compliant  friends  at  once  fell  in  with  his 
request,  and  Mr.  English,  coming  into  the 
room,  sat  down  by  Sothern,  and,  without  tak- 
ing any  notice  of  the  vacant  chairs  or  the 
disordered  table,  began  leisurely  to  discuss  the 
business  that  had  brought  him  to  the  house. 
Sothern  on  his  part  said  nothing  about  his 
guests,  until  one  by  one,  tired  with  their  posi- 
tion under  the  table,  and  quite  unable  to  see 
where  the  humour  of  the  situation  came  in, 
they  crawled  out,  took  their  seats,  and  the  in- 
terrupted dinner  went  on.  Neither  Sothern 
nor  his  agent  (of  course  he  was  on  this  oc- 
casion also  his  accomplice)  took  the  slightest 
notice  of  them,  and  to  the  end  of  their  days 
they  will  fail  to  see  how  it  was  that  "  English 
was  sold." 

I  have  now  said  enough  concerning  these 
elaborately  contrived,  humorous,  but  generally 
unsatisfactory,  and  sometimes  almost  pitiless 
undertakings,  I  ought,  however,  to  add  that 
whereas  Sothern's  delight  in  recounting  them 
knew  no  bounds,  his  remorse  when  he  felt  that 
through  them  he  had  annoyed  a  friend  was 
limitless.  The  handsome  presents  that,  the 
joke  being  over,  he  would  lavish  upon  his  vic- 
tims must  have  cost  him  a  small  fortune  of 


2840 


PRINCE  OF  WALES  THEATRE. 


<m 


C 


Sothern  in  High  Spirits  261 

what    may    fittingly    be    termed    conscience- 
money. 

Of  his  many  quaint  methods  of  advertising 
I  give  an  example  in  the  accompanying  fac- 
simile of  a  note  on  the  "  Bank  of  Dundreary," 
at  one  time  in  extensive  circulation. 


CONCLUSION 

The  later  years  of  Sothern's  restless  and 
over-crowded  life  were  more  or  less  sad  ones; 
but  he  was  the  last  to  see  that,  under  an  un- 
due strain  of  work  and  worry,  his  health  was 
giving  way. 

"  It  is  impossible,"  he  wrote,  "  for  me  to 
explain  what  a  staggerer  it  was  when  Sir  Wil- 
liam Jenner  and  Professor  Simpson  quietly 
handed  me  their  opinion  of  my  case.  A  sec- 
ond opinion  was  given  to-day,  which  was  pre- 
cisely the  same  as  the  first  one;  but  the  whole 
affair  has  worried  me  so  much  that  I  made  up 
my  mind  that  I  would  carry  out  my  engage- 
ments, whatever  the  result.  I,  myself,  still 
can't  believe  that  I  am  as  ill  as  the  doctors 
think.  I  know  and  feel  that  I  want  rest;  but 
I  believe  it 's  purely  overwork,  and  that  I  shall 
pull  through,  for  my  constitution  is 

IRON, 
i.e.,  it  was! " 

And  so,  for  a  while,  he  struggled  on;  but  in 
a  few  months  the  iron  constitution  by  which 
he  had  set  so  much  store,  and  which  he  had 
so  sorely  tried,  failed  him,  and  in  July,  1880, 
he  addressed  the  following  letter  to  the  New 
262 


Conclusion  263 

York  Spirit  of  the  Times,  in  explanation  of  his 
inability  to  fulfil  his  American  engagements: 

"  I  have  been,  and  still  am,  dangerously  ill, 
and  am  under  charge  of  a  celebrated  physi- 
cian in  such  nervous  complaints,  but  so  weak 
that  I  can  scarcely  crawl  from  room  to  room. 
The  doctor  says  he  believes  he  can  cure  me.  I 
do  not — but  that  does  n't  seem  to  signify.  I 
know  that  I  have  as  many  lives  as  a  cat, — but 
possibly  this  may  be  my  ninth." 

Alas!  he  was  in  his  forebodings  only  too  ac- 
curate, and  after  months  of  patiently-borne 
sufifering  he  died,  on  Thursday,  January  21, 
1881,  at  his  then  London  residence,  in  Vere 
Street,  Cavendish  Square. 

"  Sothern,"  it  was  then  truthfully  written, 
"  was  looked  upon  during  the  days  of  his  best 
health  and  strength  as  public  property,  and 
when  his  work  was  done  there  was  scarcely 
any  form  of  society,  from  Bohemia  to  Bel- 
gravia,  where  there  was  not  a  cordial  and 
courteous  welcome  for  one  who  added  to  his 
refinement  of  manner  all  those  qualities  that 
are  summed  up  in  what  the  world  calls  a  '  good 
fellow.'  Such  incitements  and  excitements 
tell,  however,  upon  constitutions,  however 
strong  and  elastic.  Nervous  temperaments 
stand  these  tests  pretty  well ;  but  in  the  case 
of  this  genial  and  accomplished  actor,  wit, 
wag,  and  boon  companion,  never  at  rest — now 


264  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

in  the  hunting-field  or  whipping  some  salmon- 
stream  when  he  was  not  rehearsing  on  the 
stage;  at  one  time  starring  in  New  York,  at 
another  back  again  in  England — cosmopoli- 
tan in  every  sense  of  the  word,  age  came  pre- 
maturely. His  hair  whitened  and  his  back 
was  bowed  before  his  first  half-century  was 
passed,  and  after  a  long  and  distressing  ill- 
ness his  case  took  a  hopeless  turn." 

Southampton  Cemetery,  the  spot  where,  in 
accordance  with  his  own  wish,  he  was  put  to 
rest,  is  an  ideal  burying-ground.  Very  beauti- 
ful did  it  look  on  the  wintry  Wednesday  follow- 
ing his  death,  with  its  snow-covered  ground  and 
tombstones,  and  hoar-frost-bedecked  trees;  and 
as  the  lamented  actor  was  lowered  into  his 
grave  the  sun  shone  brightly  down  and  helped 
to  form  a  picture  which  the  ten  friends  who 
accompanied  his  sons  to  the  grave-side  are  not 
likely  to  forget.  It  seemed  but  a  small  gath- 
ering that  had  assembled  to  pay  the  last  mark 
of  affection  and  respect  to  one  so  universally 
regretted,  but  the  privacy  and  simplicity  of 
the  ceremony  were  strictly  in  accordance  with 
his  wishes  and  his  well-known  detestation  of 
the  ghastly  paraphernalia  which  accompany 
too  many  of  our  English  funerals.  Time  and 
place  had,  of  course,  prevented  many,  and  es- 
pecially his  brother-actors,  from  being  present ; 
but  the  utter  absence  of  the  ordinary  crowd  of 


I 


"  WHERE    THE    DEVIL  'S   THE   OTHER    FINGER   GONE?  " 


Conclusion  265 

gaping,  curious  idlers  would  have  been  after 
his  own  heart.  He  was  surrounded  by  a  few 
for  whom  he  cared,  and  who  took  comfort  in 
the  fact  that  this  eager,  restless  spirit  had 
found  rest,  and  in  the  thought  that — 

"He  has  outsoared  the  shadow  of  our  night; 
Envy,  and  calumny,  and  hate,  and  pain, 
And  that  unrested  which  men  miscall  delight 
Can  touch  him  not,  and  torture  not  again." 

In  the  history  of  the  stage  Sothern's  name 
will  perpetually  live.  Among  his  friends  he 
will,  while  they  have  life,  be  remembered  as 
one  of  the  kindliest  and  most  affectionate  of 
men. 


POSTSCRIPT   TO  THE   THIRD   EDITION 

Since  the  publication  of  the  foregoing 
Memoir  of  Edward  Askew  Sothern,  many 
exceedingly  welcome  communications  have 
reached  me  from  those  who,  at  various  stages 
of  his  checkered  stage  career,  knew  the  gifted 
comedian  whose  life  I  have  endeavoured  to 
narrate.  Some  of  these  are  of  public  inter- 
est, and  I  am  glad  of  the  opportunity  that  the 
issue  of  this  edition  gives  me  to  add  them  to 
my  work. 

Of  the  early  Weymouth  appearance  that 
called  forth  the  critical  letter  from  Charles 
Kean  with  which  my  first  chapter  opens,  Mr. 
Rowland   Thomas,   of  Weymouth,   writes   me: 

"  You  make  slight  mention  of  his  appear- 
ance at  Weymouth,  from  whence  he  went  to 
Portsmouth.  It  happened  that  the  box  plan 
of  the  Weymouth  Theatre  was  kept  at  the  shop 
where  I  then  carried  on  my  business.  '  Doug- 
las Stuart'  (Sothern's  then  nom  de  theatre) 
came  a  day  or  two  before  the  company  from 
Jersey,  and  being  in  a  fix  about  some  lodgings 
that  he  had  taken,  I  offered  him  the  use  of 
my  own  rooms  until  he  could  go  to  them.  I 
mention  these  matters  to  show  that  I  knew 
266 


Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition     267 

him,  and  always  found  him  very  gentlemanly 
in  all  his  actions.  Now  for  the  incident  that 
I  believe  was  the  cause  of  his  going  to  Amer- 
ica. One  day  he  said  to  me  that  business  was 
very  bad,  and  asked  me  if  I  could  not  get  him 
up  a  '  bespeak.'  I  thought  of  a  Mrs.  Deer- 
ing,  a  member  of  a  family  from  Kent,  then 
staying  here,  and  a  sister  of  Colonel  Yeo,  who 
met  with  his  death  in  the  Crimea.  Mrs.  Deer- 
ing  consented  to  help  us,  and  the  choice  of 
pieces  was  left  to  me.  I  chose  '  The  Lady  of 
Lyons,'  Sothern  playing  Claude  Melnotte,  and 
Mrs.  Poole,  the  manager's  wife,  Pauline.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Deering,  with  their  family  and  friends, 
were  present,  and  as  a  matter  of  consequence, 
there  was  a  good  house.  A  few  days  afterwards, 
Mrs.  Deering  told  me  that  she  was  an  old 
friend  of  Mr.  Charles  Kean's,  and  that  she  had 
written  to  him  and  told  him  that  he  must  look 
to  his  laurels,  as  a  young  actor  here  was  play- 
ing parts  exceedingly  well,  and  she  advised 
him  to  come  to  Weymouth  and  judge  for  him- 
self. Then  she  asked  me  if  I  could  get  the 
piece  put  on  again,  as  Kean  had  promised  to 
come;  but,  at  the  same  time,  she  begged  me 
to  say  nothing  to  Sothern  of  the  expected 
visitor.  Kean,  accompanied  by  a  Colonel 
Blake,  came  on  a  night  when  the  performance 
was  repeated  '  by  particular  desire.'  Sothern 
came  to  me  next  day,  telling  me  that  his  for- 


268  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

tune  was  made,  as  Kean  would  no  doubt  en- 
gage him  for  the  Princess's.  Subsequently  he 
told  me  of  his  bitter  disappointment,  and  his 
determination  to  go  to  America." 

Of  the  American  -pre-Dundreary  days  little 
new  information  reaches  me  except  that  one 
correspondent  calls  my  attention  to  the  fact 
that  Sothern's  first  appearance  as  Armand  in 
"  Camille "  was  cruelly  said  to  have  "  every 
characteristic  of  a  poker  except  its  warmth." 
I  am  not  surprised  that  I  do  not  find  this 
notice  in  Sothern's  scrap-book,  and  I  can  pict- 
ure to  myself  the  sensitive  and  capable  young 
actor  writhing  under  the  lash  of  a  writer  who, 
for  the  sake  of  saying  a  smart  thing,  ignored 
legitimate  criticism.  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
so-called  "  critics "  of  this  stamp  ever  killed 
a  good  actor,  but  that  they  have  goaded  easily 
affected  natures  to  the  verge  of  despair  and 
madness  is  beyond  all  doubt. 

Concerning  the  days  that  immediately  pre- 
ceded the  production  of  "  Our  American 
Cousin  "  at  Laura  Keene's  Theatre,  Mr.  S.  B. 
Bancroft,  with  characteristic  kindness  and 
courtesy,  writes  me  as  follows: 

"  During  my  visit  to  New  York,  as  a  lad 
of  seventeen,  in  1858,  I  almost  lived  in  the  the- 
atres, and  saw  Sothern  play  Littleton  Coke  in 
'  Old  Heads  and  Young  Hearts '  (which  struck 
my  then  young  judgment  as  one  of  his  very 


Postscript  to'the  Third  Edition     269 

best  performances),  Charles  Surface,  Harry 
Dornton,  Young  Marloic,  Captain  Absolute, 
Frederick  Bramble,  Charles  Courtley  (most 
amusing),  and,  for  a  benefit,  part  of  Nemours 
in  *  Louis  XI.,'  of  which  I  then  thought  little 
good.  Sothern  was  a  comedian — an  eccentric 
comedian — and  a  brilliant  one.  I  enclose  the 
old  bills.  The  original  Dundreary  programme 
I  gave  to  Sothern  in  1863.  He  was  kind  to 
me  then,  and  I  entertain  none  but  warm  memo- 
ries of  him." 

Mr.  Bancroft's  interesting  "  old  bills "  tell 
me  that  Sothern  played  Littleton  Coke, 
Charles  Surface,  Han^y  Dornton,  Captain  Ab- 
solute, and  Frederick  Bramble,  to  the  Bob, 
Crabtree,  Goldfinch,  Acres,  and  Dr.  Ollapod  of 
Joseph  Jefferson. 

Before  taking  leave  of  Mr.  Bancroft,  I  shall, 
with  his  permission,  tell  two  anecdotes  in 
which  Sothern  characteristically  figures. 
Prior  to  its  production  at  the  Haymarket, 
Watts  Phillips's  play,  "  The  Woman  in 
Mauve,"  was  tried  in  Liverpool.  "  It  began," 
says  Mr.  Bancroft,  "  well  enough,  and  had 
amusing  bits  in  it,  but  it  was  not  a  good  play. 
Hare  acted  the  ex-policeman,  afterwards  taken 
by  Compton.  I  recall  an  amusing  incident. 
The  leading  characters  in  the  second  act  were 
joining  in  the  chorus  to  a  song  sung  by  Soth- 
ern, Hare  beating  time  with  a  telescope,  which 


270  Edward^ Askew  Sothern 

he  used  throughout  the  play  as  a  kind  of  mem- 
ory of  his  former  truncheon.  One  night  the 
audience  roared  with  laughter,  louder  and 
louder  at  each  successive  verse;  the  actors 
doubled  their  exertions,  Hare  especially,  who 
attributed  part  of  their  enjoyment  to  the  vig- 
orous use  of  his  impromptu  Mton,  when  Soth- 
ern, who  was  next  to  him,  suddenly  discovered 
that  various  articles  of  costume  used  by  Hare 
as  '  padding '  were,  one  by  one,  emerging  from 
beneath  his  coat,  and  forming  an  eccentric- 
looking  little  heap  upon  the  stage.  The  audi- 
ence roared  louder  than  ever,  Hare  beating 
time  with  renewed  fierceness,  when  Sothern 
whispered,  '  Xever  mind,  old  fellow ;  don't  take 
any  notice ;  don't  look  down ! '  Of  course  Hare 
did  look  down  at  once;  he  saw  what  had  hap- 
pened, and  bolted  in  confusion,  leaving  us  to 
finish  the  scene  as  best  we  could  without  him." 

Linking  as  it  does  Sothern's  name  with  that 
of  an  actor  who,  then  on  the  threshold  of  his 
career,  has  now  equalled  him  in  fame,  this 
little  incident  is  a  valuable  addition  to  my 
story. 

Mr.  Bancroft's  next  reminiscence  deals  with 
one  of  Sothern's  innumerable  practical  jokes, 
and  of  these  some  critics  have  warned  me  I 
have  already  said  enough ;  but  it  is  so  good 
and  characteristic,  that,  at  the  risk  of  being 
charged    (like  Mr.  Hare  in  ''The  Woman  in 


Postscript  to  the  Third^Edition   ;  271 

Mauve ")  with  undue  ''  padding,"  I  must  add 
it  to  my  store. 

"  Staying  at  an  hotel  near  Bangor,''  says 
Mr.  Bancroft,  ''  Sothern  soon  found  out  it  was 
the  custom  of  the  oldest  resident  among  the 
guests  for  the  time  being  to  preside  at  the  little 
table  d'hote,  and  that  it  was  the  rule  for  the 
chairman  always  to  say  grace.  The  joker  one 
evening  learnt  by  accident,  not  long  before  the 
dinner-hour,  that  the  visitor  who  had  for  some 
days  presided  had  received  a  telegram  which 
compelled  a  hurried  packing  up  and  his  de- 
parture. The  spirit  of  mischief  prompted 
Sothern  to  send  a  little  note  in  the  name  of 
the  landlord  to  all  the  other  guests,  some 
dozen  or  fifteen — of  course  privately  and  sep- 
arately— couched  in  these  words :  ''  Our 
esteemed  president,  I  regret  to  say,  will  not 
be  at  dinner  this  evening.  May  I  venture  to 
request  you  to  have  the  kindness  to  say  grace 
in  his  absence?  The  signal  for  the  same  will 
be  two  sharp  knocks  upon  the  sideboard."  The 
signal,  at  the  proper  moment,  was  of  course 
given  by  Sothern,  who  was  more  than  repaid 
by  the  glee  with  which  he  often  told  how  all 
the  guests  rose  to  a  man,  as  at  a  word  of  com- 
mand, each  commencing  to  pronounce  his  fa- 
vourite form  of  grace ;  and  then,  with  all  sorts 
of  blundering  apologies  to  each  other,  they 
resumed  their  seats." 


272  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Of  the  much  discussed  question  of  the  origin 
of  Lord  Dmidreary  much  has  come  to  hand. 
Donald  Robb  writes :  "  I  am  afraid  that  his- 
tory is  after  all  only  a  confusion  of  facts. 
Joseph  Jefferson  and  Lester  Wallack  are  both 
quoted  as  saying  that  Sothern  '  gagged '  the 
part  of  Dundreary ;  but  the  latter  claims  that 
it  was  first  done  while  he,  Sothern,  was  play- 
ing with  Laura  Keene.  A  good  many  years 
ago  Sothern  was  manager  of  the  Theatre 
Royal  at  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia.  I  can  see  the 
old  home  of  the  players  now,  with  its  not  very 
florid  outside  ornamentation,  the  gaping  joints 
in  the  wooden  walls,  its  tawdry  stencil  fres- 
coes, its  little  auditorium  with  the  straight- 
backed  penitential  seats,  its  almost  flat  gal- 
lery where  the  gods  used  to  yell  with  delight  at 
the  vagaries  of  '  Poor  Pillicoddy '  (and  Soth- 
ern was  a  good  one),  or  thrill  with  excitement 
while  Richard  III.,  covering  the  whole  stage 
with  a  sweep  of  his  sword,  hunted  for  another 
Richmond  to  kill;  the  drop  curtain  that  al- 
ways swayed  far  enough  to  allow  the  par- 
quette  to  see  the  suddenly  resuscitated  Richard 
march  off  the  stage  without  even  a  limp;  the 
wonderful  trees  that  served  as  a  hiding  place 
for  Jihhenainosi/,  the  American  Indian-killer 
— or  as  a  bower  for  an  oriental  maiden;  the 
'  properties '  from  an  Italian  image  vendor 
that  formed  the  bric-^-brac  in  the  studio  of 


Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition     273 

Phidias,  the  sculptor;  and  through  all,  impreg- 
nating all,  the  lingering  scent  of  the  hay,  which 
in  the  pre-theatre  days  filled  the  old  barn 
better  than  ever  poor  Sothern  did.  In  this 
house  Sothern  first  played  Dundreary  to  genial 
John  T.  Raymond's  Asa  Trenchard.  Sothern's 
Dundreary  was  unique,  Raymond's  Trenchard 
admirable.  Sothern  gagged  Dundreary  un- 
mercifully, but  not  in  the  first  representation. 
Halifax  was  in  those  days  an  important  garri- 
son town,  and  among  the  officers  were 
plenty  of  ultra-refined  gentlemen  who  might 
well  have  served  as  models  for  Sothern's 
representation." 

That  Sothern  was  at  one  time  manager  of 
the  Halifax  Theatre  we  have  already  seen, — 
and  this  peep  at  the  difficulties  under  which 
he  worked  is  interesting.  Besides,  it  would 
now  appear  that  it  was  he,  and  not  Mr.  Pinero, 
who  first  contrived  to  draw  "  the  scent  of  the 
hay  over  the  foot-lights  " !  But  concerning  the 
first  production  of  "  Our  American  Cousin," 
the  writer  must  have  been  mistaken.  This 
undoubtedly  took  place  at  Laura  Keene's 
Theatre,  New  York,  and  I  will  now  quote  Mr. 
Joseph  Jefferson  on  the  subject. 

Says  that  admirable  comedian  and  indispu- 
table authority :  "  During  the  season  1858-59 
Miss  Keene  produced  Tom  Taylor's  play  of 
'  Our  American  Cousin,'  and  as  its  success  was 
18 


274  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

remarkable  and  some  noteworthy  occurrences 
took  place  in  connection  with  it,  a  record  of 
its  career  will  perhaps  be  interesting.  The 
play  had  been  submitted  by  Mr.  Taylor's  agent 
to  another  theatre,  but  the  management  fail- 
ing to  see  anything  striking  in  it,  an  adverse 
judgment  was  passed  and  the  comedy  rejected. 
It  was  next  offered  to  Laura  Keene,  who  also 
thought  but  little  of  the  play,  which  remained 
neglected  upon  her  desk  for  some  time;  but  it 
so  chanced  that  the  business  manager  of  the 
theatre,  Mr.  John  Lutz,  in  turning  over  the 
leaves,  fancied  that  he  detected  something  in 
the  play  of  a  novel  character.  Here  was  a 
rough  man,  having  no  dramatic  experience, 
but  gifted  with  keen,  practical  sense,  who  dis- 
covered at  a  glance  an  effective  play,  the  mer- 
its of  which  had  escaped  the  vigilance  of  older 
and,  one  would  have  supposed,  better  judges. 
He  gave  me  the  play  to  read.  While  it  pos- 
sessed but  little  literary  merit,  there  was  a 
fresh  breezy  atmosphere  about  the  characters 
and  the  story  that  attracted  me  very  much.  I 
saw,  too,  the  chance  of  making  a  strong  char- 
acter of  the  leading  part,  and  so  I  was  quite 
selfish  enough  to  recommend  the  play  for 
production. 

"  The  reading  took  place  in  the  green-room, 
at  which  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the 
company   were   assembled,    and   many    furtive 


Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition     275 

glances  were  cast  at  Mr.  Couldock  and  myself 
as  the  strength  of  Abel  Mtircott  and  Asa 
Trenchard  was  revealed.  Poor  Sothern  sat 
in  the  corner,  quite  disconsolate,  fearing  there 
was  nothing  in  the  play  that  would  suit  him; 
and  as  the  dismal  lines  of  Dundreary  were 
read  he  glanced  over  at  me  with  a  forlorn  ex- 
pression, as  much  as  to  say,  '  I  am  cast  for  that 
dreadful  part,'  little  dreaming  that  the  char- 
acter of  the  imbecile  lord  would  turn  out  to  be 
the  stepping-stone  of  his  fortune.  The  suc- 
cess of  the  play  proved  the  turning-point  in 
the  career  of  three  persons — Laura  Keene, 
Sothern,  and  myself.  ...  As  I  have  before 
said,  Sothern  was  much  dejected  at  having  to 
play  the  part.  He  said  he  could  do  nothing 
with  it,  and  certainly  for  the  first  two  weeks 
it  was  a  dull  effort,  and  produced  but  little 
effect.  So  in  despair  he  began  to  introduce  ex- 
travagant business  into  his  character,  skip- 
ping about  the  stage,  stammering  and  sneez- 
ing, and,  in  short,  doing  all  he  could  to  attract 
and  distract  the  attention  of  the  audience. 
To  the  surprise  of  every  one,  himself  included, 
these  antics,  intended  by  him  to  injure  the 
character,  were  received  by  the  audience  with 
delight.  He  was  a  shrewd  man,  as  well  as  an 
effective  actor,  and  he  saw  at  a  glance  that  ac- 
cident had  revealed  to  him  a  golden  oppor- 
tunity.    He   took   advantage   of   it,   and   with 


276  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

cautious  steps  increased  his  speed,  feeling  the 
ground  well  under  him  as  he  proceeded.  Be- 
fore the  first  month  was  over,  he  stood  side  by 
side  with  any  other  character  in  the  play;  and 
at  the  end  of  the  run  he  was,  in  my  opinion, 
considerably  in  advance  of  us  all.  And  his 
success  in  London,  in  the  same  character,  fully 
attests,  whatever  may  be  said  to  the  contrary, 
that  as  an  extravagant,  eccentric  comedian  in 
the  modern  range  of  comedy,  he  was  quite 
without  a  rival.  His  performance  of  Sam 
which  I  saw  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre,  in 
London,  was  a  still  finer  piece  of  acting  than 
his  Dundreary.  It  was  equally  strong,  and 
had  the  advantage  of  the  other  in  not  being 
overdrawn  or  extravagant." 

In  connection  with  the  impersonation  of 
Dundreary,  my  attention  has  been  called  (by 
Mr.  Frederick  Hawkins)  to  the  late  John  Ox- 
enford's  admirable  little  essay  on  the  subject. 

"  Everybody,"  wrote  Oxenford,  "  goes  to  see 
Lord  Dundreary.  But  ask  people  the  simple 
question  under  what  category  they  would 
place  Lord  Dundreary,  whether  he  is  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  fool  or  an  out-of-the-way  manifes- 
tation of  shrewdness,  and  opinions  are  divided. 
According  to  the  Mahomedan  belief,  fools  and 
madmen  are  inspired.  Is  there  not  something 
Mahomedan  in  the  manner  in  which  Dundreary 
is  regarded?     We  know  that  he  is  not  quite 


Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition     277 

cannie;  but  we  hold  there  is  something 
oracular  about  his  utterances.  .  .  .  He  is  a 
nature  without  ballast.  His  sense  of  the 
ludicrous  is  most  keen,  his  perceptive  facul- 
ties are  even  over-developed.  He  grasps 
blindly  at  most  original  notions,  and  these 
slip  away  from  him  for  want  of  tenacity  of 
brain  and  continuity  of  thought.  Power  of 
concentration  he  has  none.  He  thinks  of  too 
many  things  at  a  time,  and  cannot  even  finish 
an  anecdote,  some  image  totally  foreign  to  the 
subject  arising  in  his  mind  and  chasing  from 
his  consciousness  all  that  has  gone  before. 
The  merest  trifle  puts  him  out.  He  has,  as  it 
were,  no  back  to  his  head,  and  consequently  no 
backbone  to  his  character.  Those  who  re- 
gard Dundreary  as  a  mere  stuttering  fop  are 
mistaken.  He  is,  as  we  have  said,  a  man 
without  ballast — an  incomplete  man.  He 
might  have  been  as  logical  as  the  best  of  us; 
shone  forth  as  a  mathematician,  a  politician, 
an  orator,  what  you  will,  had  he  not  been  sub- 
jected to  a  perpetual  counteraction.  He  has 
impediments  of  all  kinds — in  speech,  in  gait, 
in  eyesight,  and,  worst  of  all,  in  judgment. 
Moral  respect  he  always  commands,  and  none 
of  the  many  laughs  that  are  raised  at  his  ex- 
pense involve  contempt.  Whatever  his  de- 
ficiencies, he  is  a  gentleman,  a  thoroughly 
kindhearted  gentleman  too,  and  one  utterly  in- 


278  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

capable  of  intentional  rudeness  or  ill-nature." 

I  quite  agree  with  Mr.  Hawkins  in  thinking 
that  "  no  truer  description  of  the  whimsical 
figure  which  Sothern  conceived,  elaborated, 
and  so  perfectly  represented  has  yet  been 
penned." 

In  briefer  fashion  bluff  and  outspoken 
Charles  Reade  has  thus  recorded  his  verdict: 

"  Sothern. — A  dry  humorist.  I  believe  he 
professes  to  mesmerise,  and  is  an  imitator  of 
the  Davenport  Brothers.  He  can  get  his 
hands  out  of  any  knot  I  can  tie.  His  Dun- 
dreary is  true  comedy,  not  farce.  He  is  as 
grave  as  a  judge  over  it,  and  in  that  excellent 
quality  a  successor  to  Liston." 

From  the  many  "  personal  reminiscences " 
of  my  friend  that  have  reached  me,  I  gladly 
avail  myself  of  the  following. 

Mr.  Richard  Davey  writes  me :  "I  first 
formed  the  acquaintance  of  E.  A.  Sothern  in 
1875,  when  I  was  dramatic  editor  of  the  New 

York  Spirit  of  the  Times.     Mr.  B ,  who  was 

then  staying  at  the  Gramercy  Park  Hotel,  in- 
vited me  to  meet  Sothern  at  breakfast.  He 
had  spoken  to  me  a  great  deal  about  him,  and 
when  I  entered  the  breakfast-room  I  was  much 
disappointed  at  not  seeing  the  celebrated  actor. 
Our  mutual  friend  led  me  on  to  express  my 
opinion  of  Sothern's  acting,  and  I  very  boldly 
said  that  I  was  extremely  grieved  that  so  fine 


Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition     279 

an  actor  should  waste  his  time  upon  such  a 

part   as   Lord  Dundreary.      Mr,    B then 

asked  me  if  I  knew  anything  about  Sothern's 
origin,  and  I  said  what  I  really  believed  at  the 
time — that  I  thought  he  was  the  son  of  a 
clergyman,  and  that  he  had  annoyed  his  ex- 
tremely religious  family  by  going  on  the  stage. 
I  was  about  to  say  a  few  other  things  of  a  like 
character,  when  suddenly  I  heard  a  deep 
groan,  and,  to  my  amazement,  now  perceived 
for  the  first  time  that  I  was  not  alone  with 
my  host,  for  in  a  chair  in  a  dark  corner  was, 

to  all  appearances,  an  elderly  lady.     Mr.  B 

informed  me  that  this  was  Mrs.  Sothern,  an 
aged  relative  of  the  actor,  and  I  ventured  upon 
a  few  commonplace  remarks,  to  the  effect  that 
I  hoped  she  had  not  been  inconvenienced  by 
the  journey  from  England,  and  so  forth.  The 
venerable  lady  vouchsafed  no  answer,  but  con- 
tinued to  groan  and  to  twist  about  in  an 
alarming  manner,  until  on  a  sudden,  with  a 
hop-skip,  a  la  Dundreary,  she  threw  off  a  table 
cover  (with  which  she  had  draped  her  knees), 
and  her  bonnet,  veil,  and  shawl — and  Sothern 
stood  before  me.  *  Very  glad  to  meet  you,' 
said  he;  'only,  I  am  not  the  son  of  a  clergy- 
man; and  I  quite  agree  with  you  that  Dun- 
dreary is  a  ludicrous  caricature.  But  then 
he  has  put  more  money  in  my  pocket  than  all 
the   other  parts   I   have  ever   played   put  to- 


28o  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

gether;  and  the  proof  of  the  pudding  is  in  the 
eating,  you  know.'  And  then  we  sat  down  to 
breakfast,  Sothern  entertaining  us  with  the 
funniest  possible  descriptions  of  his  sea-sick 
fellow-passengers. 

"  Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  perform- 
ance Sothern  gave  in  New  York  was  that  of 
Othello.  It  was  for  a  benefit,  and  was 
mainly  organised  by  Mr.  Florence.*  I  have 
every  reason  to  believe  that  Sothern  intended 
to  play  the  part  seriously,  and,  indeed,  he  read 
to  me  one  morning  in  his  rooms  several  scenes 
quite  admirably.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  never 
heard  any  actor  pronounce  the  address  to  the 
senators  with  more  artistic  simplicity.  The 
curtain  rose  on  a  full  house,  there  not  being  a 
vacant  seat.  Sothern  was  the  Moor  of  Venice; 
Florence,  I  ago;  and  Miss  Lotta,  Desdemona. 
The  opening  scenes  went  well,  and  the  address 
to  which  I  have  alluded  was  very  finely  ren- 
dered, and  won  a  round  of  hearty  applause. 
Everybody  was  wondering  by  this  time  whether 
we  were  to  witness  a  serious  or  a  burlesque 
performance.  In  the  second  act,  Sothern,  I 
believe,  felt  his  power  failing  him,  and  thought 
that  he  could  only  save  himself  by  becoming 
intensely  ridiculous.  Our  first  intimation  of 
this  intention  was  his  giving  one  or  two  little 
hops,  a  la  Dundreary.     Then  he  shut  one  eye, 

*  See  ante. 


Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition     281 

and  stuck  an  eye-glass  in  the  other,  and  from 
that  moment  until  the  closing  scene  his  clever 
burlesquing  of  the  part  caused  incessant  mer- 
riment. It  would  be  absolutely  impossible  to 
describe  the  drollery  of  the  famous  scene  be- 
tween lago  and  Othello,  in  which  the  latter 
throws  the  treacherous  '  ancient '  to  the 
ground.  It  was  simply  Lord  Dundreary,  with 
his  eccentricities  accentuated,  acting  Othello. 
Florence,  too,  put  on  a  broad  Irish  brogue  for 
the  benefit  of  lago;  and  as  to  Miss  Lotta,  she 
skipped  and  frisked  as  Desdemona,  and,  in- 
stead of  singing  the  '  Willow '  song,  produced 
a  banjo  and  gave  us  one  of  her  favourite  '  nig 
ger '  ditties.  She  absolutely  refused  to  be 
smothered,  and  played  pitch  and  toss  with  the 
pillows,  whilst  logo  threatened  to  put  an  end 
to  the  tragedy  with  a  fire  hose.  And  so  ended 
this  memorable  performance,  which,  excepting, 
perhaps,  when  Mr.  George  Rignold  played 
Romeo,  for  a  charitable  purpose,  to  five  Juliets 
(Sothern,  by  the  way,  formed  one  of  the  audi- 
ence), has  never  been  surpassed.    .    .    . 

"  On  my  return  to  England  I  renewed  my 
friendship  with  Sothern.  Whether  he  had  any 
presentiment  that  his  end  was  approaching  I 
cannot  say,  but  it  is  certain  that  on  several 
occasions  when  I  was  with  him  alone,  we  had 
conversations  of  a  distinctly  religious  char- 
acter.   Reverence  was  not  one  of  his  character 


282  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

istics,  but  on  the  other  hand,  he  could  not  bear 
profane  jokes,  and  once  when  I  was  showing 
him  a  French  caricature  which  parodied  an 
event  in  Scripture,  he  exclaimed,  '  I  cannot 
stand  that  sort  of  thing ! '  and,  snatching  it 
from  my  hand,  he  put  the  obnoxious  print  in 
the  fire.  '  I  wish,'  he  continued,  '  that  you  had 
not  shown  it  to  me.  It  has  put  me  out  for  the 
rest  of  the  day.'  This  incident  led  to  our 
talking  of  a  future  existence,  and  of  revealed 
religion,  and  I  recall  his  saying  how  on  two 
occasions  in  his  life  he  had,  as  he  quaintly  put 
it,  '  been  very  near  God.'  The  first  was  some 
years  previously  in  Canterbury  Cathedral, 
towards  evening,  when  the  light  of  the  set- 
ting sun  was  streaming  through  the  stained- 
glass  windows.  '  It  seemed  to  me,'  he  said, 
'  that  I  really  was  in  the  house  of  God,  and  that 
by  advancing  down  the  stately  aisle,  I  should 
somehow  meet  Him  face  to  face.  I  cannot  say 
how  long  I  stood  ruminating,  but  it  was  until 
the  brilliant  crimson  light  had  faded,  and 
then,  to  my  surprise,  I  found  myself  leaning 
against  a  tomb,  crying  like  a  child,  and  in- 
voluntarily repeating  to  myself  the  Lord's 
Prayer  over  and  over  again.'  The  same  thing, 
he  said,  occurred  to  him  on  another  occasion 
when  he  was  crossing  the  Atlantic.  The  sea 
had  been  very  rough,  but  was  getting  calm 
towards  evening,  and  the  sun  was  setting  bril- 


Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition     283 

liantly.  '  It  impressed  me,'  he  went  on  to 
say,  '  with  an  overpowering  sense  of  my  own 
smallness  and  of  the  greatness  of  the  Un- 
known ;  and  then  again  the  prayer  came  back 
to  me,  and  I  threw  my  hat  off  and  repeated  it 
continually  as  before.'  He  was  of  a  very  gen- 
erous nature,  and  it  is  within  my  knowledge 
that  he  continually  sent  large  sums  of  money 
to  poor  actors,  and  even  to  people  whose  dis- 
tress he  had  merely  read  about  in  the  papers. 
A  few  months  before  his  death,  and  when  it 
was  decided  that  he  should  go  to  Italy,  he  asked 
me  to  assist  him  in  writing  a  book,  in  which 
he,  in  the  character  of  Dundreary,  was  to  ad- 
dress me  a  series  of  letters  describing  his 
travels,  and  I  was  to  answer  him  in  the  char- 
acter of  a  Eussian  Princess,  supposed  to  be 
desperately  in  love  with  him.  I  was  to  sign 
my  letters,  '  Yours,  Clarissa  Tartarkinsky,' 
the  name  being  his  own  invention." 

Concerning  the  production  of  "  The  Woman 
in  Mauve,"  Mr.  P.  M.  Feeney  writes :  "  Soth- 
ern  at  this  time  was,  as  usual  with  any  new 
piece,  full  of  enthusiasm.  He  asked  me  to  the 
first  rehearsal,  promising  that  I  should  see  a 
girl  with  the  most  remarkable  head  of  hair  in 
London,  whom  he  had  picked  up  from  some 
factory,  and  who  had  never  before  appeared 
upon  the  stage.  He  was  also  anxious  that  I 
should  give  him  my  opinion  about  the  piece. 


284  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

I  went  at  the  appointed  time,  and,  passing  on 
to  the  stage,  noticed  a  slatternly  girl,  almost 
half  asleep,  resting  against  one  of  the  scenes. 
This  was  '  The  Woman  in  Mauve,'  and  she  was 
to  do  little  else  than  pose.  Buckstone,  in- 
credulous as  to  the  whole  business,  was  in  a 
bad  temper,  and  he  and  Sothern  had  a  some- 
what amusing  passage  of  arms,  Sothern  in- 
sisting on  Buckstone  repeating  his  part,  until 
the  latter  put  on  his  hat  in  high  dudgeon  and 
abruptly  left  the  theatre  for  the  consoling  pre- 
cincts of  the  Caf6  de  I'Europe,  where  he  used 
a  good  deal  of  strong  language  as  to  the  way 
in  which  he  had  been  treated.  I  spoke  to 
Sothern  about  this  afterwards,  and  he  vindi- 
cated himself  by  saying  that  there  was  often 
a  good  deal  of  looseness  in  leading  actors  when 
called  upon  to  rehearse  before  their  own  com- 
j)any,  and  that  he  (Sothern)  was  not  a  man 
to  allow  any  neglect  on  the  part  of  any  actor 
to  escape  criticism.  '  He  would  make  Buck- 
stone give  proper  attention  to  his  part.'  And 
he  did,  though  not  without  a  considerable 
amount  of  trouble.  What  struck  me  most 
during  the  frequent  rehearsels  of  this  subse- 
quently unsuccessful  play  was  the  immense 
pains  that  Sothern  took  in  every  detail.  No- 
thing seemed  to  escape  his  penetrating  obser- 
vation, and  he  spared  no  trouble  in  getting  the 
mechanical  accessories  of  the  piece  perfect. 


Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition     285 

"  It  was  a  little  before  this  time,  and  when 
Dundreary  was  the  rage  iu  town,  that  I  saw 
more  of  Sothern,  and  became  a  pretty  fre- 
quent visitor  in  his  snug  dressing-room  at  the 
Haymarket,  where  1  would  sit  smoking,  and 
witnessing  his  transformation  from  a  sensible, 
cool-headed  man,  in  a  check  suit,  to  the 
elaborately-dressed,  weak-headed  peer.  The 
dresser  would  bathe  his  feet  in  rose-water,  and 
tenderly,  as  if  the^'  were  sacred  relics,  pro- 
duce from  the  wardrobe  the  magnificent  mas- 
terpieces of  raiment,  the  immortal  waistcoat, 
the  immaculate  swallow-tail,  the  consummate 
shirt  and  necktie — Sothern,  all  the  time  he 
was  being  arrayed,  working  away  at  the  in- 
evitable cigar,  and  chatting  about  topics  very 
far  removed  from  things  theatrical.  When 
properly  '  built  up '  by  his  dresser,  and  with 
studs,  watch,  chain,  and  rings  arranged  to  his 
satisfaction,  he  would  compose  himself  in  his 
arm-chair  and  proceed  to  tell  some  amusing 
anecdote,  generally  to  be  spoilt  by  the  '  call 
boy,'  who  would  give  his  signal  that  the  '  great 
man '  was  wanted  on  the  stage.  Sothern 
would  then  place  his  lighted  cigar  on  the  table 
and  disappear,  and  the  distant  roar  of  ac- 
clamation told  me  that  my  friend  was  before 
the  footlights.  After  a  brief  interval  he 
would  calmly  reappear,  resume  his  half-smoked 
cigar,    and     finish     the     half-told     anecdote. 


286  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

Nearly  all  these  stories  related  to  the  practi- 
cal jokes  in  which  he  loved  to  take  part.  Some 
of  these  I  regretted,  as  they  seemed  to  me  to 
transgress  the  bounds  of  legitimate  fun.  On 
one  of  these  '  dressing  evenings '  he  told  me 
how,  after  dining  somewhere  in  the  Strand,  he 
seized  hold  of  the  first  policeman  he  met, 
worked  himself  up  into  a  state  of  assumed  ex- 
citement, and  told  the  constable  that  a  ter- 
rible murder  had  been  committed  in  an  alley 
leading  to  an  adjacent  hotel,  that  the  body  was 
lying  on  the  ground,  and  that  he  was  dashing 
off  to  get  medical  advice.  It  was  always  a 
mystery  to  me  how  he  did  not  in  such  ways  get 
himself  into  serious  trouble.  Very  wonderful 
to  me  was  the  way  in  which,  after  going 
through  the  ordeal  of  the  nightly  applause  of 
enthusiastic  audiences,  he  would  throw  off  the 
actor  and  appear  as  the  good-natured  host, 
restlessly  solicitous  for  the  comfort  of  his 
guests.  We  had  many  quiet  after-theatre 
suppers  together  at  The  Cedars,  and  many  a 
game  of  billiards,  of  which  Sothern  was  in- 
tensely fond,  and  it  was  there  that  I  came  into 
contact  with  many  of  the  literary  and  dramatic 
celebrities  of  the  day,  who  found  the  most 
generous  hospitality  in  a  home  where  the  host 
was  perfect,  and  the  hostess  witty,  consider- 
ate, and  graceful." 

To   his  valued   friend,   Mr.    Sam.   Timmins, 


Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition    287 

Sothern  wrote  many  characteristic  letters,  of 
which  the  following  may  serve  as  a  specimen: 

"  Edinburgh,  May  26,  1863. 
"  Dear  Timmins: 

"  House  last  night  good,  but  not  crowded. 
Piece  a  decided  hit.  I  find  out  now  that  for 
twelve  years  this  is  the  first  time  the  theatre 
has  been  kept  open  during  this  period,  being 
the  worst  in  the  whole  year!  Pleasant!  It 
is  the  quintessence  of  a  bad  company.  No- 
thing could  be  worse!  A  wet  day  and  a 
headache. 

"  Ever  yours, 

"E.  A.  Sothern." 

Mr.  Timmins  also  calls  my  attention  to  the 
following  letter  that,  in  October,  1867,  was 
addressed  to  the  editor  of  the  Birmingham 
Daily  Post:  ij 

"Sir: 

"  There  are  few  men  but  what  feel  a  grati- 
fication at  being  in  any  way  connected  with 
the  earlier  career  of  those  who,  by  their  talent 
or  genius,  ultimately  acquire  fame  and  great- 
ness. Confessing  myself  subject  to  this  weak- 
ness (if  weakness  it  be),  I  take  the  liberty  of 
recounting  '  the  first  appearance,'  on  any 
stage,   of  a  gentleman   who  is  unequivocally, 


288  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

at  present,  the  most  popular  actor  of  the  day. 
Some  years  ago,  when  I  was  the  proprietor  of 
the  Adelphi  Theatre,  Glasgow,  one  morning 
a  young  gentleman  presented  himself  at  the 
theatre.  He  wanted  to  act.  Would  pay  a 
handsome  gratuity  if  his  request  was  complied 
with — only  it  must  be  that  very  night.  '  But 
the  bills  are  out,  and  we  cannot  change  the 
pieces,'  I  observed.  '  What  do  you  play  ? '  he 
inquired.  '  The  Wonder.'  '  Well,  allow  me 
to  play  Don  Felix,  and  I  will  take  all  your 
private  boxes.'  His  singular  and  earnest  man- 
ner interested  me.  I  consented.  He  acted, 
and  gained  great  applause.  Years  elapsed. 
I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Mr.  Sothern 
upon  his  late  visit  to  Birmingham.  He  in- 
quired, did  I  recollect  the  circumstance  above 
narrated?  I  did.  Thus  Mr.  Sothern  made 
his  first  appearance  on  any  stage. 

"D.  P.  Miller, 
"  Author  of  '  The  Life  of  a  Showman.' " 

This  episode,  no  doubt,  belonged  to  Soth- 
ern's  eager  amateur  days.  He  always  spoke 
of  the  Jersey  engagement  to  which  I  referred 
in  my  first  chapter  as  his  first  real  experience 
as  an  actor. 

To  my  friend  T.  W.  Robertson,  the  younger, 
I   am   indebted   for   the  following  interesting 


Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition      289 

letter,   written    to   his    father   concerning   the 
comedy  "  Birth  " : 

"Dear  Tom: 

"  Your  resolve  is  sensible  and  plucky.  I 
feel  convinced  the  piece  will  go  a  season  in 
London.  The  volunteers  at  present  are  too 
often  on  the  stage.  Once  I  am  on  the  scene  I 
should  be  but  little  of  a  listener.  Those  lines 
of  mine  in  Act  I.  go  off  like  rockets  and  are 
dead  certainties,  and  the  more  I  get  of  that 
class  the  more  brilliantly  my  part  goes.  I  'm 
an  awfully  bad  long-speech  actor,  but  give  me 
good  lines,  or  rapid  asides,  and  I  give  the  au- 
thor the  full  benefit  of  every  word.  I  don't 
insure  this  on  the  first  night,  for  on  that  oc- 
casion my  value  is  about  thirty  shillings  a 
week.  I  must  know  I  have  '  got '  the  audience, 
and  you  understand,  I  am  sure,  what  I  mean. 
I  shall  play  the  piece  in  Liverpool  as  it  is,  and 
if  it  runs  I  shall  call  fresh  rehearsals  when  I 
get  your  alterations,  and  wind  up  with  it  in 
its  new  form. 

"  Ever  yours, 

"E.    A.    SOTHERN."* 

As  we  know,  in  the  super-nervous  hands  of 
Sothern,  "  Birth  "  (admirable  comedy  as  it  is) 

*  This  letter  is  now  in  the  possession  of  Mr. 
Charles  Wyndham,  who  has  kindly  permitted  me 
to  reproduce  it. 


290  Edward  Askew  Sothern 

was  not  destined  to  run,  and  when  Robert- 
son's failing  health  rendered  his  exacting  "  al- 
terations "  matters  of  practical  impossibility 
the  impulsive  actor  wrote: 

"  Don't  worry  about  '  Birth.'  Get  well,  and 
write  me  another  comedy,  and  another,  and 
another  after  that." 

Finally  I  am  reminded  (and  with  more  fit- 
ting or  graceful  words  I  cannot  better  end 
my  book)  of  what  George  Augustus  Sala  wrote, 
January  29,  1881: 

"  And  poor  Edward  Sothern,  since  I  last  ad- 
dressed my  readers,  is  dead  and  buried!  It 
was  on  the  1st  of  last  March  that,  arriving  at 
San  Francisco,  I  saw  Sothern  at  the  Baldwin 
House,  and  found  him  reading  a  cablegram 
from  Mr.  John  Hollingshead  about  a  new 
comedy  by  Mr.  Gilbert,  in  which  Sothern  was 
to  make  his  appearance  at  the  Gaiety,  after 
the  engagement  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.  J.  Flor- 
ence had  come  to  a  close.  He  was  filling  a 
large  theatre  in  San  Francisco  every  night 
with  enthusiastic  audiences;  and  I  saw  him 
play  Lord  Dundreary  for  the  fourth  or  fifth 
thousandth  time — I  really  forget  which.  He 
was  still  chatty,  vivacious,  and  charming;  but 
he  looked  dreadfully  ill,  anxious,  and  worn. 
Some  few  days  afterwards  we  met  at  the  pretty 


Postscript  to  the  Third  Edition     291 

hotel  opposite  the  Seal  Rock,  at  the  Goldeu 
Gates  of  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco.  We  were 
to  have  lunched  together;  but  he  became,  in 
the  course  of  the  afternoon,  so  ill  that  he  was 
fain  to  lie  down  on  a  bed  in  one  of  the  rooms 
of  the  hotel  and  try  to  snatch  some  repose  un- 
til we  went  back  to  town  to  work.  The  last 
time  that  I  saw  him  was  in  a  private  box  at 
the  London  Princess's,  on  the  first  night  of 
Mr.  Booth's  performance  there  of  Hamlet. 
Poor  Sothern  then  said  that  he  was  better,  and 
spoke  hopefully  of  his  speedy  reappearance  on 
the  stage;  but  he  looked  the  very  ghost  of  his 
former  comely  self.  As  the  old  nurses  used 
to  say,  he  looked  '  marked  for  death.'  Yes,  on 
his  prematurely  blanched  brow  there  was  the 
fatal  sign,  Thanatos.  Of  his  shining  talents 
and  distinct  originality  as  a  comedian  I  may 
speak  again.  As  the  grave  closes  over  him  I 
can  only  say  that  a  kindlier-hearted  and  more 
charitable  man,  a  warmer  friend,  a  more  de- 
lightful companion,  and  a  more  urbane  gen- 
tleman never  lived  than  Edward  Askew 
Sothern." 

THE   END 


E.  H.  SOTHERN 

AS 

LORD  DUNDREARY 


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